


Uncaged

by OctoberSky13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Muggle London, Muggle Technology, Psychological Torture, Surveillance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-15 22:57:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11241033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctoberSky13/pseuds/OctoberSky13
Summary: Although the craziness surrounding Scorpius’ and Albus Severus’ fourth year at Hogwarts tore Ginny and Harry apart, it brought Harry to a life of love and happiness with Draco Malfoy. A few years later, Draco is contacted about sensitive information regarding the death of Sirius Black. Tormented by the memory, Harry agrees to go with Draco to Azkaban to interrogate Death Eaters present during the break-in at the Department of Mysteries to find out the truth.Afterwards, Harry is taken from their home. The kidnappers demand the release of Death Eater, Walden Macnair, in exchange for information on his whereabouts. Draco and his team of Aurors use mobile phones, surveillance equipment, and vehicles to move through Muggle London trying to find him.





	1. The Veil

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, so much love and many thanks to my amazing betas, AshesOfLauren and Enigmaeneel, without whom I'd never have had the courage to actually post something longer than 1000 words... ((Seriously, this is my first multi-chapter, EVER.))
> 
> Inspired by LA.8.23
> 
> DISCLAIMER: All canon characters, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling.  
> 

“Remind me again why I decided running with you in the mornings would be fun?” Harry asked, slightly out of breath. “I can barely keep up with your gigantic stride. Plus, this pace you’ve set is brutal.”

“Come on, Potter,” Draco teased, laughter shining in his eyes. “You aren’t that out of shape, are you?”

Harry paused. He linked his fingers behind his head, taking a deep breath.

“Out of shape?” he asked, feigning offense. “How could you say that after last night?”

Draco smirked, his eyes darkening. “Fair point. Race you to the top?”

Harry laughed. He knew the man could easily beat him. However, he never backed down from a challenge. “Sure. Do you see the green car on the corner?” he questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pointed up the road.

Draco nodded. “Yeah. Are you ready?” he quipped.

“I was born ready.” Harry raised his eyebrows, his hair slightly uncovering his scar as he gave Draco’s arse a playful smack. 

“All right. Let’s do it. Ready, set--” Draco started, but Harry had already taken off.

“Hey!”

Draco sprinted, easily gaining on and surpassing Harry, reaching the car ten steps ahead of the other man. As he turned to announce his victory, Harry hurried past him. 

“What are you doing?” Draco scoffed. “You said to the green car! I’ve obviously won.”

“I changed my mind,” Harry said casually, turning to look back at the blond over his shoulder.

“In the middle of the race?”

Harry shrugged. “I want to get back to the house, maybe take a nice, hot shower,” he said licking his lips suggestively. 

“Hot shower?” Draco’s eyes sparkled, though he was trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

“What’s up? Harry quipped. “I thought you were a long-distance man?” Laughing, Harry raced around the corner out of sight, a slight pop announcing his disapparation.

“Oh, hell yes.” Draco grinned to himself, following after his husband.

\- - -

Draco moved about the kitchen preparing his breakfast. He found he rather enjoyed cooking once he had taken Harry’s advice about not using the house elves for everything. And, though he had always eaten in the large banquet room of the Manor, Draco also found he appreciated the simplicity of eating in the space provided, with family.

Taking his plate, Draco made his way over to the kitchen table, sitting down next to the dark-haired boy reading the _Daily Prophet_.

“How about we go to Diagon Alley this weekend, Albus?” Draco asked, buttering his toast. “I’m sure you’ve gotten your supply list, as has Scorpius.” 

“Sounds good.” Albus put down the paper, displaying an image of an elite racing broom. He was careful to position the paper just right, and for his seemingly innocent efforts, the placement was perfect. Taking a sip of his tea, Albus watched as Draco eyed the article in fascination.

“While we are there,” Albus started, “can we check out Quality Quidditch Supplies?”

Draco glanced up. He studied the boy, trying to mask his pride. Oh yes, Albus was definitely a Slytherin. “I suppose,” he said calmly. He didn’t want to sound too eager himself.

Albus smiled, unable to contain his excitement. “I hear they have a new racing broom that rivals that relic of a Firebolt dad still cherishes.”

“I heard that,” Harry muttered from the hallway. 

Albus rolled his eyes, sending a pleading look to Draco. The man gave a quick nod and wink as Harry entered the kitchen.

He shook his head at the pair, knowingly. “At least Scorpius is on my side,” Harry mused, rifling through the pantry for something to eat. “When does he get back from visiting his grandparents?”

“Tonight,” Albus said, adding, “We’ve got plans with Rose and Hugo.”

“Sounds like fun,” Harry offered, walking cautiously around the table, eyeing Draco’s toast. With the swiftness of a seeker, he snatched it and circled back around just out of the flailing blond’s reach.

“I mean,” Harry said, his mouth full of buttery goodness, “I’m only saving the world.”

Draco scoffed, a snarky reply on the tip of his tongue when the fireplace rumbled. Harry smiled slyly at the interruption. 

Draco glared at the man, giving him his signature Malfoy sneer. In a sickly sweet voice, he purred, “I’ll get it, my savior.” He disappeared into the entrance hall leaving Albus and Harry snickering behind him.

“So, my dear son,” Harry said as he smacked lightheartedly at the boy’s arm. “You think my broom is a relic, do you?”

\- - -

 Draco returned to the kitchen to find Harry finishing up the dishes.

“Everything okay?” Harry inquired, whipping the wet towel playfully at Draco’s legs.

“All good. Did Albus leave?” Draco asked, taking the towel from Harry. Before the man could answer, Draco grabbed him around the waist and pulled him into a tight embrace. Turning his head, he captured Harry’s lips with his own. Harry moaned, parting his lips slightly as Draco’s tongue caressed the edge.

“Is that a yes?” Draco mumbled against Harry’s lips.

Harry gasped in response, losing himself in the sensation as Draco’s tongue slipped further into his mouth. Draco’s hand moved down Harry’s back cupping his arse. Harry gasped again when Draco broke the kiss. Taking a deep breath, Draco stepped back, composing himself.

“So, do you feel like working today?” 

“Not anymore,” Harry grumbled, pulling away from Draco, folding his arms over his chest. “You are always such a tease.”

“It’s your fault,” Draco laughed. “You’re insatiable. Anyway, I think you will want to hear about the floo call.”

“I nearly forgot about that,” Harry said irritably. “It had better be worth it.” 

“Avery and Mulciber want to give up some information,” Draco said, his voice becoming quieter as he continued. “In exchange for reduced sentences, of course.”

Harry gave Draco a confused look, “What could they possibly have to offer after all these years?” 

Draco sighed, “Information regarding the death of Sirius Black during the break-in at the Department of Mysteries.”

Harry paled, his heart stopping. Staggering to the table, he sat down and took off his glasses. Harry put his hands over his eyes, rubbing them furiously. He took a moment to himself. Though it was many years ago, Harry still had a hard time talking about parts of the war, especially all of the casualties. 

Draco walked over, gently stroking Harry’s shoulders. “I know, love. They won’t speak to anyone except you. They claim to need a familiar face--” 

“You have a familiar face,” Harry interrupted, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice.

“Someone they can trust,” Draco continued, trying not to wince at Harry’s words. He knew it wasn’t personal, but even he was haunted by his past.

Harry sighed, standing to face his husband. “I’m sorry. Of course I will go with you.” He placed his arms around Draco’s neck, burying his face into the soft flesh beneath his ear, sucking, kissing, and nipping. “Before we head to Azkaban, I’d like to propose a different race.” 

\- - -

“Are you sure about this?” Draco asked, not daring to look directly into the other man’s eyes. Harry stowed his wand in his front pocket. He placed a small stack of case files on the conveyor belt and walked through the metal detector. 

“Step this way and lift your arms, Mr. Potter,” the armed guard snapped. Harry complied, watching suspiciously as the man patted his robes. Though the annoyance plastered on his face was clear, Harry was grateful Kingsley had listened to reason and installed Muggle technology at Azkaban after the war.

“Not in the least,” Harry said finally, gathering the files. “Is this all the information you have on the two death--”

“You’re next, Malfoy,” the guard interrupted, sneering; a look of disgust spread across his face.

“Of course, sir,” Draco spat, slapping the guard on the back like old friends. “It’s been awhile. How are the kids?”

Harry elbowed the blond in the ribs. “This is not the time for pettiness.” 

“The git will never get over the time I spent in here as a teenager,” Draco said under his breath as the guard gave him one final pat.

“Well, I have,” Harry retorted, taking Draco’s hand and leading him to the main entrance of the holding cells. “That’s all that matters, love.”

When they were out of earshot, Harry asked again, “Is this all the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has on Avery and Mulciber?” 

“Yes,” Draco sighed. “There isn’t much on Mulciber. Well, not more than you already know firsthand anyway. It was Avery who told the Dark Lord that it would be possible to obtain the prophecy by way of the Imperius Curse. File says Bode was the unlucky victim. However, if Avery had bothered to listen to the old man, he would have known that prophecies are protected by spells. The only problem is--” 

“They can only be retrieved by the person about whom they were made. Yes, I know,” Harry interjected, squeezing Draco’s hand. They walked down the hallway in silence for a few moments before Draco began speaking again. 

“Right,” Draco continued, “Anyway, Avery was punished by Voldemort.”

Suddenly, Draco stopped walking. Feigning shock, the man gasped clutching at his chest. Harry turn just as Draco asked, “Wait, you do know who he is, right?” Harry noticed a wicked smirk playing at the man’s lips. 

“Oh, yeah. I remember,” Harry said, failing to contain his laughter. “The evil guy, right? Lived in your house? He was probably in love with you. Whatever happened to him?” 

“You killed him.”

“That’s right,” Harry chuckled. “My bad.”  For a split second, Draco noticed a liveliness in his husband’s eyes that had been missing for some time. Salazar, he loved this man.

“Anyway, that’s all I was privy to,” Draco said, continuing down the hallway, through the second guard’s station. “For what it’s worth, I am not sure what more they could have to offer. Their information could be useless.”

“I know,” Harry said flatly. “I’ve prepared myself for the possibility they just want to pour salt into old wounds. After all, they will say anything to get a sentence reduction.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well, if either of them is lying, I’ll know it,” Harry said, determinedly. He sighed, looking at the closed door in front of them. “Let’s get this over with.” 

\- - -

Draco leaned against the wall. Though his heart was beating out of his chest, he wore a bored expression upon his face. This wasn’t his fight. He was here for Harry; nothing more. Slowly, Draco turned, catching a glimpse of the dark haired man. His heart shattered. Harry was fidgeting behind the desk impatiently, his face wrought with worry.

“You do not have to do this,” Draco started, grateful his voice didn’t waver. “I can--”

“I’m all right,” Harry growled, cutting Draco off.

“Sorry.”

“Are you sure Hermione meant today?” he asked, but his question was answered as the door to the interrogation room opened.

“I’m not talking to this defector,” Avery hissed, sneering at Draco. “Take me back to my cell. Apparently, Malfoy here doesn’t understand instructions.”

Draco’s face remained impassive. “ _Apparently_ ,” he stressed, “you’re blind.” The blond gestured at the table towards Harry. “Now, sit.”

“Oh, tough guy act,” added Mulciber, sauntering into the room, a smile plastered on his face. “Tell us, little one, how’s daddy?”

Draco’s eyes flashed momentarily before returning to stone. He screwed up his face in feigned bewilderment. “Sorry, who are you?” Draco asked dismissively. “Oh, right. Nobody.”

Mulciber’s eyes crossed as he scoffed indignantly, taking a seat next to Avery and across from Harry.

“You’re both willing to talk to me?” Harry questioned, his voice harsh. “Seems a little ironic considering your allegiances, or did you forget that I killed your beloved master?”

Neither rose to the bait, much to Harry’s disappointment. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter,” Harry continued to taunt them. “If you think you are getting out of Azkaban anytime soon, you’re sadly mistaken.” 

Avery’s eyes shifted to Mulciber, though Harry didn’t seem to notice. “No reduced sentence, no information,” Avery demanded.

“You are under the impression I need something from you,” Harry said, his voice quiet and calculating. “I’ve made my peace. You don’t have to say anything, really, because nothing you say will bring Sirius back.” As if to prove Harry’s words, the Death Eaters sat unspeaking, staring ominously at the man.

The silence was deafening. Harry checked his watch. Fifteen painstaking minutes ticked by before he chanced a glance at Draco. Harry raised his eyebrows and shrugged. The other man nodded in agreement; they would not be getting anything out of these two today.

Harry slid his chair from the table, stretching as he stood, “Well, this staring contest has been fun, gentlemen, but I’m afraid time is up. Have a beautiful li--”

“Wait.” Avery hesitated. “Antonin Dolohov.”

“I know the name.” Harry sat back down, crossing his legs. While he looked bored, his mind was battling back his emotions. “He killed Remus Lupin, but I heard he got his own in the end. Pity.”

“Yes, well, I suppose that is true,” Avery persisted. “Hmm, I guess you’re not interested in his files on returning from the veil?”

“What do you--” Harry gasped, unable to finish his question.

“Ah,” Avery smiled. “So we have a deal then?”

Harry didn’t move. Over twenty years of his life, of his spare time, had been dedicated to researching the other side. Only Draco knew the amount of frustrations, countless hours, and sleepless nights Harry had poured into the old Ministry archives looking for the slightest clue that it was possible to return. Hearing the information now, from a Death Eater, was almost too much for him to endure.

“He figured it out, you know? And not just from the veil, but from other forms of magical deaths too.” Avery was clearly enjoying the effect he had on Harry. “It’s all there in his files, and I know where they are.”

Draco pushed off from the wall, striding over to the table. “You have our attention.”

“I want out,” Avery stated blankly. “Mulciber too.”

“What does he have to offer?” Draco probed. “From where I am standing he hasn’t got a galleon in this deal.”

“Both of us or nothing,” Avery said simply. “What’s that annoying Muggle expression? The ball is in your court?” He sat back, snickering to himself, looking pleased.

“How do we know you’re not bluffing?” Draco asked more calmly than he felt. “If what you are saying is true, others must have known about his research too. They may already have moved his notes.”

“Do you honestly believe Dolohov trusted anyone? Come on, Draco. Even I know you aren’t that thick. Only the three of us - well, five now - know about those files. I am taking a huge risk telling you this. I want to be compensated properly. I brought Potter in today to see that you don’t fuck this up for me. His track record for the truth is much higher than yours,” Avery sneered. 

“We will vet the story,” Harry said, finally finding his voice. “If it checks out, the Minister will be in touch.”

With that, Harry stood, quickly making his way to the door, Draco following closely behind him.

\- - - 

The couple left the Ministry, using the exit that led into Muggle London. Harry was happy to be away from Azkaban. A crisp breeze gave him the brief illusion of a clear mind. Of course, the further he got from the prison’s menacing façade, the more confused he felt. There seemed to always be more paths than clues. Harry was trying to make sense of the information while Draco checked in.

“I understand. Okay, thanks,” Draco stated, closing his mobile. He still wasn’t used to carrying the Muggle technology, though he admittedly liked the ease at which information was passed without the incessant need to Apparate everywhere. “Well, the Minister was aware of Antonin Dolohov, of course.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Ignoring the overwhelming sensation to wrap his husband in his arms and comfort him, Draco continued, “There is no direct evidence to link the bastard to the old archive files.”

“Case closed,” Harry said dejectedly.

“Not so fast. Hermione did offer the possibility that Dolohov’s research was done when Voldemort was in control. She said there would probably be no written records. We have been given full security clearance to access the archives and to seek out an Unspeakable. It won’t hurt to see how the story plays out.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, his mind still reeling from everything he had just taken in.

Before Draco could reassure Harry further, his mobile rang.

“Hey, Theo,” Draco announced, loud enough for Harry to be snapped out of his thoughts. “You’re on speaker or whatever this blasted thing has.”

“Hiya, Draco,” Theo said cheerfully. “My contact from the Muggle Liaison Office called. Metropolitan Police need us to check out a crime scene immediately. They think it might be a revenge attack on an Auror. I can come get you.”

“Come get me?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, Arnie Peasegood is already on scene, with Metro Police,” Theo said. “He suggested arriving in Muggle style. I’ve got a sweet ride.”

“All right,” Draco said, turning to give Harry an apologetic look. “How far are you?”

“Well, according to this cool gypsy thing, I’m pretty close,” Theo said, revving the engine as he rounded the corner. He rolled down the window as he came to a stop in front of the two men.

“You do realize it’s called a GPS, right?” Harry snorted, reaching through the car window to shake Theo’s outstretched hand. “Global Positioning System.”

“Ah, yes. That would make more sense,” Theo laughed.

Harry turned to Draco. “Let me guess; you’ve got to go.”

Draco nodded, pulling Harry to him. He leaned in, his mouth close to the other man’s ear. “I love you,” he whispered against it. He kissed along Harry’s ear, to his jaw, finding his lips. He licked playfully until Harry kissed back vigorously.

“I love you more,” Harry replied, his eyes darkening. Draco smirked at the lovely reaction and leaned in again, kissing Harry gently.

A not so subtle cough came from the car, causing Draco to pull away far too quickly.

“Yeah, I probably should go before we get carried away,” Draco said.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Theo called as Draco walked around to get in. “He’s always safer when I drive.”

“Take care of him,” Harry said seriously.

“I always do.”

“You better.” Harry looked past Theo into Draco’s adoring gaze. “See you tonight, love.”

\- - -

 “You drive like a madman,” Draco scoffed, getting out of the car. “And you told Harry I’d be safe. Ha!”

“Hey,” Theo complained. “It is not my fault Muggles don’t know how to drive their own vehicles. Besides, I was going the speed limit.”

Draco shook his head as he reached for his Metro issued badge, showing the officer blocking the section of road into the park. Together the two Aurors walked up the winding path. As they reached the top, they noticed a body suspended in air.

“How do you know this guy was an Auror?” Draco asked, examining the decapitated corpse. When he didn’t get an immediate answer, he turned, realizing Theo was not standing next to him. Glancing around, he found his partner speaking to Arnie. After a quick exchange, Theo walked slowly over to the blond.

“Draco,” Theo whispered, clutching the wallet he was given in his hand. “They found an I.D. on the body.”

“Okay,” Draco said carefully, noticing the grave look on Theo’s face. “Who is it?”

Theo, unable to speak, handed over the identification. As Draco opened the holder, a voice from behind him said, “It’s Blaise Zabini.” Though Draco heard the man’s words, he checked the I.D. to be sure.

He sighed, “Damn.”

“I’m sorry,” Arnie said, offering Draco a hand. “I’d like to ask you a couple of questions, but if you need some time--”

“Just get on with it,” Draco snapped.

“Right,” Arnie paused. “Did you see the words scripted in blood when you entered the clearing?”

“Yeah. _Mihi vindicta incepit_ ,” Draco said, distractedly.

Theo cringed, “It means, ‘Revenge has begun’.” Draco nodded to his partner.

“Do those words mean anything to either of you?” the man asked.

“No,” Draco and Theo said in unison.

“You and Blaise were partners at one point,” Arnie continued, directing his question back to Draco. “Is that correct?”

He bowed his head. “For seven years. Blaise worked deep cover. I was his handler. It got to be too much for him. He works just a few blocks from here now. Oh fuck, has anyone notified his wife?”

Arnie winced. “It’s in the process. Listen, why don’t you take a minute?”

Draco nodded, turning his attention back to Theo. “He was a good man, like a brother to me.” Theo put a hand on Draco’s shoulder. He didn’t know what to say, though in these circumstances people rarely did.

“Salazar, the two of you are not actually crying are you?” a man said as he approached. “Although, it is nice to know how you actually feel about me.”

Draco gasped. “Blaise?” He shook his head, staring in bewilderment at the dark skinned man in front of him. “You’re alive? You scared the hell out of me, mate! Come here.” Draco hugged the man to be sure he was real.

“Well, think about how Daphne felt when she got the floo call.” Blaise winced, recalling the sobbing voice on the other end of his mobile. “I had to come up here to see what was going on.”

“Are you sure this is Mr. Zabini?” Arnie questioned suspiciously.

“Yes,” Draco laughed, his chest a million times lighter. “This is definitely Mr. Zabini. Absolutely.”

“So,” Blaise gestured to the body hovering over their heads. “That supposed to be me?”

Arnie flushed. “Sorry. We found an I.D. on the body.”

“Five weeks ago, I took the dog for a walk, and someone broke into my house, took a camera, my I.D., and a couple of galleons I had in a dish by the door.”

Theo shook his head, “This doesn’t make much sense. Between the cryptic message, decapitation, and an ex-Auror’s I.D, something doesn’t feel right. I mean, clearly this guy was targeted.”

Draco turned to Blaise. “Theo’s right. Somebody thought he was you.”

Blaise shrugged. “I don’t know how. It doesn’t say I’m an ex-Auror on the I.D., and there is nothing in the house that says I was an Auror.”

Draco’s mind was spinning. Evidently, they were missing something. “Why would they fake your death if they knew it could be checked out so quickly?”

Theo gulped. “Of course. Ex-Auror. Someone knew they would get our attention.”

Arnie eyed Theo. “Do you think it was to draw you guys out here?”

“I’ll do you one better than that,” Theo murmured excitedly. “Draco, they knew Blaise was your contact, a close friend. That would specifically draw _you_ out.”

“What would someone possibly want with me?” Draco wondered aloud. He knew his job had provided him with a plethora of enemies over the years; there was no doubting that. However, nothing gave his family more trouble than his public relationship with… Draco’s voice hitched, “Harry.”

“What’s wrong?” Blaise asked.

“I’ve been fighting with Harry to abandon our tiny flat ever since I regained control of the Manor. He’s been slowly moving stuff over. He brought the last of his and his son’s belongings over this week,” Draco said, searching his pockets for his phone. “We had been staying in the flat through the moving process, but last night was his first official night in our house. Now, on the same day we question Avery and Mulciber, this happens?”

“That doesn’t sound like a coincidence,” Blaise said, biting his lip in concern.

“Shit,” Theo muttered. “This crime scene would guarantee you wouldn’t go home with him. Call him. Now.”

“Wait. Why does that matter? What’s going on?” Blaise asked, confused.

Draco shuddered. “Hopefully nothing.”

The blond walked down the path for privacy, willing his husband to pick up his phone. Draco knew Harry always carried the stupid Muggle device wherever he went, even though he hadn’t been an active Auror for a few years. Back then, he knew Harry had felt as though he had something to prove to Kingsley regarding their usefulness, to which Draco scoffed. Now that he needed him to answer the bloody thing, the man was unreachable.

\- - -

 Harry entered the Manor, phone ringing deep within his robes. He placed his wand and keys on the mantle of the fireplace in the entrance hall. Rifling through his pockets, Harry finally answered on the last ring.

“It’s been less than an hour, and I already miss you,” Harry hummed into the phone.

“Love,” Draco started, trying not to sound too alarmed. “I may be a little paranoid, but I think when you spoke to those Death Eaters, you may have been marked.”

“Marked?” Harry asked as he made his way to the back bedroom. Draco could tell the man wasn’t entirely listening.

“Followed,” Draco said urgently. “I think someone used those idiots to find you. I’m not sure, but I think you should get out of the house.”

Harry stopped, Draco’s words finally sinking in. For a moment, he panicked. “All right. I’ve just got to go back for my wand.”

“Okay,” Draco said, failing to mask the fear in his voice. “Do it quickly. Stay on the line with me.” His words were lost in the sound of shattering glass.

“Draco, someone’s in the house! They’ve put up anti-apparition wards.” Harry whispered, his voice barely audible. “I can’t get out.”

Draco turned to Blaise and Theo, not bothering to take the phone away from his mouth as he shouted, “Get to the Manor, now! Somebody’s inside! Harry? Harry? We’re coming!”

\- - -

Harry screamed as a stinging jinx caught him square in the chest. He ducked back into the master bedroom, fighting his body’s urges to shut down. He knew he had to get to his wand, but without the ability to Apparate, he would have to go straight through his attackers, unarmed. Lying down, Harry peered through the gap between the floor and the door. He caught a glimpse of three men adorned in masks. His stomach dropped. Death Eaters.

Harry put his phone back into his robes, careful not to disconnect the call. As Harry rose to his feet, a sudden rush of pain jolted throughout his body. Clutching his stomach, he knew his only option would be to wait for them to come to him. Silently, Harry glanced around the large room. He frowned; there was nowhere to hide. He knew his best chance was to wait behind the door and hope the masked men were too inept to check.

“Draco,” Harry stammered into his pocket. “I love you.”

“Haaaaarry,” a voice sang out. He could hear them laughing maniacally. “We’re coming to get you, Potter.”

All of his training couldn’t prepare Harry for the blast that came through the door. Staggering, Harry lost his footing, and he dropped to the floor. His tongue was soaked in the taste of blood. Bruised and head pounding, he could just make out two of the three men entering. He grabbed the foot of the second man and pulled him into the first, causing them to topple over.

“Valiant effort, Potter,” the third man in black jested, pointing his wand at Harry’s heart. “ _Crucio_!”


	2. Whatever It Takes

Harry’s blood-curdling scream echoed in Draco’s ears. Frantically, Draco tried to Apparate, willing himself to his bedroom. No success. He closed his eyes and tried again, concentrating on Harry. He needed to see his husband. Nothing. Draco shot a frustrated glance at Theo and Blaise.

“No luck, mate,” Theo growled. “They must have warded against Apparating into your grounds too.” 

“Fuck!” Draco slammed his fists against his head. “This cannot be happening. It’s _my_ bloody Manor.”

Another scream came from Draco’s hand. He looked down at the phone, tears brimming his eyes.

“Is that…?” Blaise’s voice trailed off.

“Yes,” Draco whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. “He didn’t disconnect the call.” Though he didn’t say it, Draco was proud of Harry’s ingenuity.

“We’ve got to get to him,” Draco pleaded. “Theo, how long will it take to drive to the Manor?” he asked desperately, but Theo’s face said it all. “Right, too much time.”

“We could always--”

“I know you’re listening, Malfoy,” a voice interrupted Theo’s thought. “I hope you’re enjoying this as much as we are. We will be in touch.” Draco heard a loud screech, followed by a small pop through the phone before the line went dead.

“I’m going to the Manor,” Draco muttered through gritted teeth. “Theo, you too. Meet me in the main hall. Blaise, alert the Minister. Have her get the Metro Police and Aurors, and have them meet us there. Now.” Draco took a breath, focused on the entrance hall, and Disapparated. 

\- - - 

Draco arrived first. Gripping his wand tightly, he glanced around the room, surveying the damage. Though he was expecting Theo, the man still startled Draco, earning him a nonverbal _Stupefy_ to the chest.

“What the hell--” Theo started, standing and brushing himself off, but Draco silenced him.

“Sorry,” Draco whispered apologetically. “Let’s make sure the Manor is empty.” The man motioned for his partner to search the west wing, taking the east wing himself. Though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to investigate their master bedroom alone, Draco knew he had to be the one, for Harry’s sake. 

“Meet me back here in ten minutes,” Theo half suggested, half demanded. “No heroics. You hear something, you signal me.” With one final nod, the two set off.

Draco walked cautiously down the hall, holding his wand steady in his hand. As he approached each door, he cast a quick _Homenum Revelio_ but found nothing. He wasn’t sure if the absence of a body should give him hope or rip him apart.

Draco stopped, taking a deep breath. He knew once he rounded this last corner, he would be face to face with his bedroom, their bedroom.

Counting to three, Draco stepped into the hallway, casting a protective shield just in case. He gasped. The door had been blown from its hinges. Draco’s heart stopped, and for a moment he didn’t think he could go any further.

“ _Homenum Revelio_ ,” Draco tried again, his voice wavering slightly. Nothing happened. He closed his eyes. “You can do this. You need to do this.”

Draco warily stepped into the bedroom. He glanced around. Splintered wood and glass fragments littered the floor. Turning, he caught a glimpse of the wall behind what should be the door. Splattered blood and strands of hair were stuck to the wall. Draco’s eyes widened as he followed the trail down to the floor where a thick, red pool had begun to settle.

Feeling himself losing control, Draco left the room and headed back to the front entrance. He stopped abruptly, punching the wall and not caring that his knuckles split and bled. He needed to hurt someone, and he wasn’t sure to whom he owed the pleasure.

\- - -

 “There’s no one here,” Theo said, re-entering the main hall. “I checked the rooms twice.”

“I didn’t really expect them to stick around,” Draco said flatly. He took a seat on the large green lounge, resting his head in his hands.

“What’s that next to you?”

“Harry’s wand,” Draco said, his eyes glossing over as the thought of his husband unable to protect himself flitted into his mind. “I found it on the mantle over there,” he said, gesturing to the fireplace.

“Oh,” was all the man could manage to reply.

Draco shook his head. He didn’t have time for a pity party. Standing up, he walked across the room. Draco opened the door, giving Theo a direct line of sight to the driveway and walkway.

“When the others get here, bring them to my study. I am going to cue up Harry’s surveillance cameras.” Without so much as another word, he strode from the hall.

Although Draco only had about thirty minutes to himself in the study, it had felt like ages. Finally, Theo entered the room. “They’re here.”

“Draco,” Hermione cried, running into the study, Ron following closely behind her. “What happened?”

Draco simply motioned to the monitors, pulling out his chair. Hermione walked around the desk, giving Draco’s arm a squeeze as she sat down. Ron took a deep breath before going around the desk and standing next to Draco. The two stood there awkwardly for a moment watching the monitor go through its setup. Suddenly, Ron lifted his arm and began patting Draco on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

“What are you doing?” Draco asked suspiciously, his eyes finding Theo’s but his partner just shrugged.

“Being comforting,” answered Ron, continuing to pat.

“Well, you’re doing a lousy fucking job.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never had to do this before so you’re going to have to suck it up,” Ron’s arm dropped to his side. “Harry’s my best mate. And, for what it’s worth, he loves you. He’d want me to be there for you.”

“Ron’s right. We are here for you, Draco,” Hermione said gently. “We’ll get him back.”

“Uh, thanks,” Draco replied. “Ready?”

The two nodded. Draco hit play and walked around the front away from the monitors. He knew what was on those tapes, and he couldn’t stomach reliving it.

\- - - 

Hermione’s red-rimmed eyes found Draco’s when the last frame froze on the screen.

“I am so sorry,” Hermione mumbled. “This is going to be difficult, but your department has been assigned this case. I am sure I don’t need to tell you--”

“I am not sitting this one out, Hermione,” Draco interrupted, his voice firm. “So save your speech and ask me your questions. The sooner we figure out who kidnapped my husband, the better.”

Clearing her throat and masking her pain, she asked, “Have your children been secured?”

“Albus and Scorpius are en route to an undisclosed location with Ginny and my mother.” Draco checked his watch. “Hugo, Rose, Lily, and James should be arriving there soon.”

“Thanks for that,” Ron said earnestly. Draco gave him a curt nod.

“Before you entered, I checked the security cameras located near the visitor’s garage. Harry was worried about moving in full time, so we had cameras installed to put his mind at ease.”

Draco pointed his wand at the screen, and a picture of a black van appeared immediately.

“Is that what I think it is?” Hermione questioned, her face contorting in thought.

“Yes,” Theo replied. “It looks as though Harry was placed in this black van and taken off the premises by Death Eaters.”

“Why do that?” Ron asked dumbfounded. “If they wanted a quick getaway, wouldn’t they have just Apparated?”

“I’m not sure,” Draco said, slightly irritated by his lack of understanding in this case already. “I asked Metro Police to put out a BOLO. However, it would probably be faster if we tried _Point Me_.”

“Draco,” Hermione started. She didn’t want to insult the man or anger him. “That spell is just for--”

“I know what it’s for,” Draco snapped. He gripped the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “I modified it a few years ago when Blaise Zabini was undercover. All we need is a couple of strands of Harry’s hair wrapped around a wand. When you hold the wand over a map and say the spell, the hair shows you the location of the owner.”

“That’s genius,” Ron said amazed. “Only, where are we going to get his hair? I doubt very much Harry knew what a hairbrush was, let alone used one.”

“Jokes, Weasley?” Draco sneered. “Not even I thought you would stoop so low.”

Ron nearly lunged at the blond, but Hermione grabbed his arm. “I know you’re both upset right now, but this pissing contest has got to stop.”

Draco folded his arms, turning away from Ron. “Theo,” he whispered. “Stay with these two. I’m going to the bedroom.”

“What for?” Ron asked indignantly.

Draco turned, stepping into the redhead’s face. “Samples of Harry’s hair are plastered on our wall with his blood,” Draco hissed. “Want to go get them yourself?”

Ron’s eyes widened, and Hermione gasped. “No, mate, go on,” Ron stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

Draco rolled his eyes and Disapparated. He returned quickly, handing the hair to Hermione. “The map of the city is in the desk drawer. Ready?”

Hermione pulled out the map and held her hand out to take Draco’s wand, but he froze. She glanced up at him curiously.

“I...” Draco breathed. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Hermione gave him a soft smile. “I understand, dear. I’ll do it.” She wrapped Harry’s hair around her wand carefully, looking to Draco for approval. He returned her smile, encouraging her to continue. Placing her palm over the center of the map, she said, “ _Point Me_.”

Hermione’s wand spun violently in her hand, burning the top of her skin. She screamed, dropping it onto the desk.

“ _Finite_ _Incantatem_!” Ron shouted. The wand stopped instantly. “You better tell me that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Theo and Draco said in unison.

Draco walked over to Hermione who was cupping her hand. “Are you alright?” He took her hand in his own examining it.

“It felt like fire,” she whispered. “What does that mean?”

“It means we have to rely on Muggle technology to find my husband.” 

\- - -

“Theo,” Draco said, trying to focus his thoughts. “Get this footage and a description of the vehicle to the Metro Police and other Auror divisions in the Ministry, too. I have a feeling we are going to need all the help we can get.”

“Yes, sir,” Theo said, heading for the door. “Hey, doesn’t Blaise work in a Muggle neighborhood near here? Maybe we can set up a command post there.”

“That’s smart thinking, Theodore,” Hermione chimed in. “Definitely better than trying to coordinate from within the Ministry.”

“Right,” he smiled. “We worked together for seven years before you became the Minister, Hermione. You would think by now you could call me Theo. I’m headed to Metro to coordinate with Arnie and his operations center. We will bring the technology we need to Blaise’s. See you soon,” he said, and with a crack, he was gone.

“Okay,” Ron said. “Where does that leave us?” But, Draco was way ahead of him. Taking his phone from his pocket, he dialed a number.

“Dean?” Draco said before the man could say anything. He took the phone from his ear and placed it on speaker.

“Hey, Draco,” Dean said, sadness evident in his voice. “Arnie filled me in. He requested full access to Metro station files and cameras. I am here now, and I don’t see the black van anywhere once it’s about a block north of your Manor.”

“Okay, if they are going north, there’s a good chance they are trying to make it to the primary road. That will lead them out of the city,” Hermione reasoned.

Draco nodded. “From there, they can take any one of the back roads they want. Dean, are there any routes to the motorway from those side streets?”

Ron paled, “If they make it to the motorway, we may never find Harry.”

Draco silenced him with an icy glare. “Say something like that again. I dare you.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Hermione screamed. Both men gaped at her. “If you two can’t keep it together, I will replace the both of you.”

“Right,” Ron said sheepishly. “Focused.”

“Dean,” Hermione continued, “what did you find?”

“Umm… there is one that uses exclusively back alleys, but the cameras are all closed-circuit.” Draco stared at Hermione, confusion manifesting on his face.

“I--” Draco’s thought was interrupted by a loud crack.

“It mean’s we need footage from those cameras,” Theo said, walking back into the study. “I’ve just spoken to Arnie. We’ve got the go ahead to search whatever we find.”

Draco turned to Hermione. “We’re on it,” Hermione said, pulling Ron towards the door.

“Hang on a minute,” Draco said, grabbing Hermione’s arm. “Are you sure it’s wise for you to help on this? Where is Parkinson? She is Weasley’s partner, and I want my full team on this.”

“Pansy is on assignment,” Hermione said, her voice lowering as she continued. “I’ve asked Kingsley to step in as Minister ad litem. Consider me your fourth.”

“But,” Draco murmured. “We’re more than capable of handling this, Minister.”

“Of course you are,” Hermione scoffed, “but I can’t be both in the field and in charge. Kingsley seems to agree with me. Besides, this is Harry we are talking about. Not some random wizard off the street. Like you, I am not sitting on the sidelines for this.”

Draco gave the woman a grateful smile. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You can thank her by letting her check her mobile,” Dean advised. “I’ve sent you and Ron the address.” The pair waved goodbye to Draco and Theo, walking towards the door once more.

“Remember,” Draco stopped them, his eyes darkening, “we don’t have time for warrants. I’m not worried about Metro, the Ministry, or the Wizengamot prosecuting this. I need to find my husband.”

“Whatever it takes,” Ron said, Hermione nodding at his side. They Disapparated on the spot. 

Draco sighed, turning to Theo. “I have a lot of enemies, T. Harry hasn’t been an active Auror in at least nine years. This has got to be about me.”

“About being a Death Eater?” Theo questioned.

“A _defected_ Death Eater,” Draco corrected. “Truth be told, I don’t know what this is about yet, but it all starts with Avery and Mulciber. They’ve got to be the ones that exposed Harry.”

“Well,” Theo mused, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “Why don’t we go pay them a visit?”

\- - -

Somehow, Azkaban looked darker without Harry by his side, but Draco couldn’t think about that now. He needed information, and he’d be damned if he came out with nothing. Taking a deep breath, Draco followed Theo inside.

“You know the drill,” the guard growled without looking up from his paper.

Draco sighed, preparing to be berated. “Yes, sir,” he said, attempting to sound less like himself. He stepped through the metal detector without fuss, stretching out his arms expectantly.

The guard looked up. “Mr. Malfoy,” he said, concern washing over his face. “We’ve only just heard. Has there been any contact?”

Taken back by the guard’s polite manner, Draco murmured, “No.”

“The law is on your side, sir,” the guard said, extending a hand out to Draco. “Take all the time you need with those two blokes.”

Reluctantly, Draco shook the man’s hand, thanking him.

“Right then,” Theo said, confused by the exchange. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The two made their way down the long hallway to the second guard’s station. The man waved them on, gesturing to the closed door of the interrogation room without pause. Draco stopped just short of the door. Turning towards his partner, he said, “Whatever it takes.” He didn’t have to hear Theo’s answer to know he agreed.

When Draco pushed the door open, he was surprised to find Avery and Mulciber already sitting at the table, guards on either side of them.

Draco scoffed. “Oh, so now you only talk to us when they have guards in the room? What’s up with that? Do you need protection?”

Mulciber shifted in his seat. He glanced at Avery who countered, “What do you need?”

“Who paid you to contact the Ministry?” Draco asked, not wasting any time.

“Nobody,” Avery sneered. “Did everything check out?”

“I don’t have time for this,” Draco shouted. “My husband was kidnapped. Now, who told you to ask for him?”

“I asked for him ‘cause I knew him. I spent months with him, and Dumbledore, after the prophecy debacle. He questioned me when I was arrested, much to the Minister’s dismay,” Avery laughed. “Old man thought the boy was lying.” Avery sat back in his chair, winking at Mulciber.

Draco shook his head. “I don’t believe you. We’re going to ask you this one more time. Who paid you to bring ex-Auror and Head of Magical Law Enforcement Harry James Potter to this prison?”

“Who were we supposed to call?” Mulciber teased. “We trusted him. He showed us mercy, which is more than he is getting now, isn’t it?”

Draco saw red. In one swift flick of his wrist, Avery and Mulciber flew across the room. He stormed around the table, wand fixed on Avery’s throat. “Give me a name! Give me a mother-fucking name! That’s all I need.”

Simultaneously, Theo drew his wand, pointing it at the guards. “Easy now. He’s not hurting them. Let them answer.”

Avery laughed. “Nobody paid me.”

Draco pushed the wand deeper into his neck. “That’s a lie! We know you set my husband up to be here.” As Draco pulled back his wand, his other fist came crashing against Avery’s skull.

Avery cried out in agony, spitting blood as he screamed, “I’m telling you the truth! Believe me!”

“That’s enough, Malfoy,” the guard warned. “Get off of him.” Grabbing Draco by the arms, the two guards dragged him out of the room, leaving Theo behind.

Theo trained his wand on the pair, pinning them in place. Slowly, he sauntered up to Avery, and said, “Maybe you didn’t know where this was headed when you signed up. You give us a name now, and I promise it will make a huge difference in how this plays out for you.”

Avery tilted his chin in the air ever so slightly, “Is that so?” the man questioned. Theo stepped up to the Death Eater. He was so close; Avery could feel the man’s hot breath on his face.

“If something happens to Draco’s husband, you’re going to be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life,” Theo said, his voice hushed and threatening. 

He grabbed Avery’s throat, slowly applying pressure. “Do you feel that?” Avery gagged in response.

“That’s your larynx getting crushed. If I crack it, well,” Theo chuckled, “there is a fifty-fifty chance they get to you in time.” Avery’s eyes widened, fear finally setting in.

Turning to Mulciber, Theo asked, “Who paid you, huh?” Before the man could answer, Theo felt a wand push into his back.

“That’s enough,” the guard said. “Out. Now.” Theo raised his hands, willingly stepping away from Avery and into the hallway. Scanning through the dim lighting, he found Draco half way down the hall and jogged to catch up with the man, slowing his stride as the two fell into step with one another.

“Well,” Theo said, glancing sideways at Draco, “that was fun.”

Draco flipped him off.

“I saw that.”

“You were meant to.”

Theo smiled half-heartedly. “Well,” he started, holding the door open for Draco. “Let’s hope Ron and Hermione have had more luck with that address.” 

\- - -

“Well,” Hermione stopped, looking at the numbers on the side of the building. “This is the address Dean gave us.”

Ron glanced up, scanning the building. “Looks empty.”

Hermione scoffed, “Honestly, Ronald.” She pointed in the air directly over her head. “Camera.”

“Right.” Ron blushed. “I’ll knock.” He walked over to the rusty door and gave two loud raps. He stepped back next to his wife, looking up at a helicopter whirring in the sky.

“I will never get over how amazing those flying contraptions are,” he smiled.

Hermione shook her head, “All right, Arthur.” She gave Ron’s hand a squeeze just as the door swung open in front of them.

“Can I help you?” the man asked.

Hermione flashed her badge. “Is the owner or manager here?” she asked hopefully.

“You can call the number on the sign,” the man said, gesturing at the wall. “What the hell’s going on out here?” Looking up, he caught a glimpse of the helicopter.

“There was a kidnapping,” Ron said impatiently. “Listen, you’ve got surveillance cameras. We’d love to have access to those.”

“I wish I could help you,” the man said dryly. “You’re going to have to call the number.”

“Sir, this is a kidnapping,” Hermione repeated, desperation in her voice. “If we could just look at the--” but the man shook his head. Hermione heard the man utter, “Sorry,” before the door closed behind him.

Hermione kicked at the door. “Ugh!” She pulled her mobile from her back pocket, quickly dialing the number on the sign. One ring, two rings, three, four…

“What do you got?” Ron asked, though he could have answered the question for himself.

“I’ve got nothing,” she snapped, ending the call. “No one answers the phone these days.”

The two lovers stood in silence. Ron gazed at Hermione. He couldn’t imagine life without her. His thoughts drifted to Draco. He knew the man had to be going out of his mind.

Ron shuddered. “Draco is stronger than I am,” he mused. “If you had been taken, I would be going crazy, cursing anyone who crossed my path. Hell, I’d cash in on--”

“That’s it, Ron!” Hermione interrupted, checking her pockets. “How much cash do you have on you?”

Ron rummaged through his pockets, pulling out the Muggle money clip Harry had gotten him for Christmas. His face fell. “Will a couple of twenties do?”

Hermione stepped back up to the building, banging on the door. No answer. She banged again, with more force. She was about to take out her wand when the door creaked open.

“I told you--”

“I know,” Hermione cut him off. She flashed the cash in front of the man’s irritated face. “Five minutes with the hard drives attached to those cameras.”

“That’s illegal!”

Ron stepped up next to Hermione, “I understand that. No one has to know. It’s just five minutes.” Ron took the money from Hermione, placing it into the man’s hand.

“Five minutes,” the man said, counting the money. He gestured to a door just inside the building.

Hermione and Ron hurried by him before he could change his mind.

As soon as they were alone, Hermione called Dean.

“Did you find him?” Dean asked hopefully.

“No,” Hermione scowled. “I am going to put the USB drive into the computer in front of me. You’ve got five minutes.”

“I won’t need that long,” Dean said. “I’m ready when you are.”

Hermione clicked the mouse and pulled up the specified folder. Video footage of the street started streaming on the screen. “All right, Dean,” she said, her eyes filling up with tears. “You should see the van now.”

“Got it,” Dean confirmed, his spirits lifting slightly. This could be the information they needed to find Harry. “Downloading everything now.”

“Where is Draco?” Hermione questioned, removing the drive from the computer.

“He and Theo are on their way back to the command post we set up at Blaise’s,” Dean supplied. “When you guys are done there, you should join us.”

“We’ll be there in a second.”

\- - -

Ron and Hermione entered the command center just as Dean and Seamus plugged in the last monitor.

“There,” Dean said proudly. “We are all set.”

“Good timing,” Seamus added, smiling at the pair.

“Come over to the table,” Theo said. “We need to debrief.”

The couple made their way over to Draco and Theo. Hermione gave Draco a sad smile as she took her seat.

“Did you and Theo have any luck in Azkaban?” she asked.

“Draco got to toss the two bastards around a bit.” Theo smirked. “That’s about it.”

“What about you two?” Draco wondered, his voice wary. He looked like he had aged a century.

“We’ve collected data for Dean and Seamus to run through,” Ron said. “The footage seemed promising, though nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the building.”

Seamus nodded in agreement. Turning to Draco, he said, “They must have followed Harry home from the prison, but we still can’t find them on any nearby traffic cameras. Ron and Hermione, however, did locate the van on a warehouse security camera. All we can tell right now is that it headed north.”

“We already figured that out. They are headed to the motorway,” Draco said matter-of-factly, contempt dripping from his words.

“Uh, no,” Dean said. “I checked. I didn’t find them on either of the on-ramps.” Draco glared at the man. Dean winced. “I’ll just check it again.”

Draco sighed. They had to be missing something, but his brain was not cooperating. All he could think about was Harry. His smile. His laugh. He slammed his fists down on the table. “Is this still the only footage you have of the van once it left my house?”

“Yes, I do believe--” Seamus started. “Hold on.”

“What?” Draco asked. He was growing impatient with the two analysts.

“We’re getting a video call from an international number,” Dean said, bewildered. “It’s being bounced so we can’t trace it.”

“Well don’t just stand there,” Draco snapped. “Can’t you bring it up on one of these fancy monitors?”

“Yeah,” Dean said distractedly. Looking at the screen to make sure it was working, he slid the answer button to the right and clicked the expand icon. He froze.

Seamus gasped, “Oh, my god.” With all eyes on him, he pointed to the wall behind them.

“Dean,” Ron whispered. “You’ve got to do something to trace it.”

In the middle of the screen sat Harry, handcuffed to a chair. His hair was matted, his shirt damp with sweat and blood. Fear shown through his bright green eyes as he looked around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings. No one spoke; no one moved.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the silence was broken by a muffled voice. “We’re asking for the release of Walden Macnair from Azkaban. In exchange, Harry Potter will be released.”

Anger surged through Draco’s body. He shouted at the screen, “I am going to find every single person involved with this, and I am going to make it my life’s work to hunt you down.”

At the sound of his husband’s voice, Harry lifted his head, his eyes quickly scanning the room. Four enclosed walls, no windows, just a light and a small camera in the corner. Harry didn’t know how, but he was sure he heard Draco’s voice. At least, he was hoping it wasn’t his imagination. Taking a chance, Harry rasped, “Draco, is that you?”


	3. The Taunt

“Harry,” Draco cried, his voice cracking. “You can hear me? Are you okay?”

Before Harry could respond, the muffled voice stated, “You are wasting time. The room you are looking at is airtight. Release Walden Macnair, or watch your husband suffocate to death, Draco Malfoy.”

Draco scowled, “Can you trace the signal, Dean? Seamus?” 

Seamus shook his head. “He’s routing the signal through different IPs. Every few seconds, it changes to a new signal path. For a Death Eater, this guy sure knows his Muggle technology.”

“Talk to Avery and Mulciber,” Harry said, closing his eyes trying to focus. “See who paid them.” 

“We’ve tried, they won’t talk,” Draco said miserably.

“Work them, threaten them. You have to try again.”

“You know I will,” Draco said firmly, “but listen to me. Did you see anything that could help us locate you?”

Harry’s eyebrows drew together in thought. “They put a hood on me, and I’m not sure where my wand is. Do you have any idea why they are letting us communicate?”

Draco paused, unable to speak. 

“No,” Theo chimed in. “But did you hear anything? Boats, trains, traffic?”

“There was something,” Harry said, straining his voice. “I can’t figure it out.”

“Try to remember, love,” Draco murmured, trying to stay calm. 

“I was trying to stay conscious and count the time, so I’d see how far we went,” Harry said, remembering. 

“That’s great, Harry,” Hermione stated, “You’re doing great. How long do you think you were driving?” 

Harry smiled, “It’s good to hear your voice, Hermione. Let’s see. I’m estimating about ninety minutes.”

“That sounds about right,” Dean said. “It took the kidnappers two and a half hours to make contact.” 

“Death Eaters,” Harry said flatly. “Something was oddly familiar about one of them.” His voice trailed off as he closed his eyes. Harry wished he could remember, but his head was still pounding.

“We know,” Ron said. “We will figure this out, Harry. You just hang in there.” 

“Get a search radius, Dean,” Draco said, keeping his eyes on his husband.

“Okay. So, ninety minutes,” Dean turned to Seamus. “How fast do we want to say the Death Eaters were traveling?”

“Well,” Seamus offered, “I suspect they aren’t entirely familiar with driving around London, and they definitely do not want to draw attention to themselves.” 

“Call it 75 miles an hour,” Draco said, his anger rising.

“Draco,” Hermione said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “That wouldn’t be possible on the city streets.”

Draco sighed. He knew mathematically it didn’t make sense, but he couldn’t think. All he wanted was Harry safe in front of him and not on some damn screen. 

“It’s okay,” Dean said, offering Draco a sad smile. “They probably did go over the speed limit when they could. If my calculations are correct, we are looking at, well, an enormous fucking area.” The man gestured at a second monitor as he pulled up a map of the city. 

“That’s 500 square miles,” Hermione breathed. “London is just over 600 square miles. Do we still think they are in the city?” 

“I don’t know,” Theo said, staring at the map, “and that is too big of an area for just the four of us to cover.” 

“Five,” said Blaise, entering the room. “I’m with you guys until the end on this one.” He nodded to Draco who returned his sentiment.

“Okay,” Theo said, “but we’re still going to need some help. Where is Kingsley?”

“In my office,” Hermione said. “I’ll go fill him in.” With a crack, she was gone.

Draco finally pulled his eyes from Harry’s. He couldn’t stand seeing him bruised and broken. Knowing the man couldn’t see him, Draco walked away, sitting down at the table. He stifled a sob; letting his emotions drown him. He looked over his shoulder at the monitor. He couldn’t believe he was looking at half of his heart. Harry was so close and yet so unreachable. He would give anything to be holding his husband right now.

“Draco?” Harry asked, his voice as weak as his body looked.

Draco stood from the table, moving back to the monitor. Even though Harry couldn’t see him, Draco wiped his eyes and fixed his face. He didn’t need Harry hearing fear and pain in his voice. Not right now.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Draco asked. He relaxed a bit when he saw the man nod. “Good. You need to try to stay calm.” 

“I am, I am,” Harry said, trying to sound brave for his husband. “I’m all right.”

“What are the dimensions of the room you’re in?” Draco asked though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. 

Harry sighed, “I estimate about six by eight by seven feet.”

“We’re going to find you,” Draco whispered. “We will.”

\- - -

Draco cleared his throat, gesturing for the group to meet him at the table. He wanted to make sure he was out of earshot. Keeping Harry calm and conscious was Draco’s number one priority. He didn’t need his husband to hear them obsessing about locations, measurements, and Death Eaters.

The six men gathered chairs, huddling close together.

“This feels weird,” Ron stated, taking his seat. “It’s not like Harry can see us.”

“You figured that out all on your own, did you, Weasley?” Draco questioned with a sneer.

Ron balled his fists. “Shove off, Malfoy.” His face was as red as his hair. 

Rolling his eyes, Draco turned his attention to Dean and Seamus, keeping his voice as low as possible. “Send the live feed to Arnie. See if his team can make anything out of it. If so, have him disperse as necessary.” Seamus nodded, grabbing his mobile from the table. He exited the room as Hermione arrived with Kingsley.

“Minister,” Draco said, addressing the tall man. “You have got to give me access to Avery and Mulciber again. I know they are the key to all of this. All signs point to them.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr. Malfoy,” Kingsley stated. “However, you can ask the universe for all the signs you want, but ultimately, we see only what we want to see when those we love are in pain.”

“Pain,” Draco scoffed. “With all due respect, my husband is in more than pain.”

“I am well aware of the situation,” Kingsley snapped, a hint of annoyance at Draco’s tone shining through. He was just as worried as the blond man. “And I must tell you that the two Death Eaters are currently surrounded by their Ministry representatives after yours and Mr. Nott’s last visit.” 

“Fine,” Draco said, becoming agitated. “Then get me in to see Walden Macnair.”

“I was in the middle of doing that when I found this,” Kingsley said, pointing his wand to the monitor closest to the table.

Draco skimmed the file on the screen, skipping the information related to Macnair’s arrest. Annoyed, he was about to question the Minister’s effectiveness, when his eyes flashed to the heading of the paragraph at the bottom. He gasped, looking to the Minister for confirmation. The man nodded.

Draco turned to Theo, his eyes shining intensely. “Macnair was transferred to the same section of Azkaban.”

“You mean to say, Avery and Mulciber were just a few cells down?”

“They could have easily put this whole thing together,” Blaise said excitedly. “Well, at least on the inside.” He paused, biting his lip. Blaise turned to Theo and Draco, confusion spreading across his face.

“Which begs the question,” Hermione said, choosing her words carefully. “Who is helping them on the outside?”

“I’ll get Azkaban visitation logs,” Dean said, hurrying back to his computer. “When Seamus comes back inside, I’ll get him to help me.”

“I need to go, too. I’ll try to arrange the interview,” Kingsley said. “Mr. Malfoy, tell Macnair speaking with us is a condition of his release.” He took one look at Harry, sadness filling his eyes, and Disapparated. 

\- - -

Draco stared at Theo and Blaise, unblinking. His mind was racing. Avery and Mulciber facilitated the release of Macnair with outside help. _Outside help..._ Draco once again found he couldn’t think properly. Who could be helping him? After the war, most Death Eaters claimed they were threatened or cursed into serving Voldemort. Only a few remained loyal to him in the end, and they were all in Azkaban. Or so he’d believed.

Without a word to the others, Draco walked back over to Harry.

“Sorry, love,” Draco said, his voice trailing as he stared at his husband in horror. Harry was slumped over as far as his handcuffs would allow, with his eyes closed. A fresh coat of sweat dripped down the man’s face, mingling with the blood on his shirt.

Draco shrieked, “Harry!” He sank to his knees. For a moment, his world went black. All of the happiness was pushed from his body, leaving him cold and empty inside. Draco could feel his heart slowing, the thundering beat echoing in his ears. He screamed, completely missing the sound of hurried footsteps and rustling chains against the hard metal chair.

“Draco?” Harry’s voice pierced the blond’s heart. Blood pumped back through his veins, giving him life. Draco did not dare open his eyes as he looked towards the monitor. 

“It’s okay, Draco,” Hermione murmured. He was suddenly aware of her proximity.

“He’s still alive,” Ron sighed, wiping the tears from his own eyes. He pulled Draco onto his feet. “Gather yourself, he’s asking for you.”

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Draco opened his eyes. “Oh,” he sobbed. “Harry. I’m sorry.”

Harry smiled, almost laughing as he looked into the camera. “What happened to your unemotional Slytherin façade?” 

Draco laughed, stifling a sob. “You broke that down years ago.”

Harry’s chuckle turned into an alarming cough. “Sorry, it’s getting hotter in here.” 

“Harry,” Hermione said, her voice shaking. “What can you tell us about the room you’re in?”

Harry glanced around, “I’m pretty sure it’s a refrigerator, or maybe a freezer. The holes on the walls are perfectly spaced for shelves, but there are none in here.”

“That’s good,” Dean said, sliding his chair in front of the monitor.

“It’s not turned on, though,” Harry said pensively. “I’m not cold, obviously.” Harry lifted his cuffed hands slightly gesturing to the sweat covering his shirt.

“A unit that size would be in a large restaurant or hotel,” Dean said, looking to Seamus for confirmation.

“Yeah,” the man agreed. “Could also be in a school or university.” Seamus’ eyes widened as excitement flashed across his face. He ran back over to his computer, typing furiously at the keys.

“Care to share with the class?” Theo asked from behind Draco. 

“It’s got to be somewhere that’s not used anymore,” Seamus squealed. “There can’t be anybody around.” 

Draco beamed at Harry. “That’s good, love. That narrows it down.” Though Harry couldn’t see his husband, his warm words comforted him. 

“Let’s find all of those places within the search area,” Hermione said, skipping eagerly over to the table. She picked up her bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill from within. “We’ll come up with a list.” 

“We’ll divvy it up between Peasegood’s and Metro’s teams,” added Blaise joining her, his voice lightening with exhilaration. “We will get everyone available, get them all knocking on doors.” 

“We do it now,” Ron said, stepping up with Theo. The four hunched over the paper together as Dean and Seamus began rattling off locations. Draco’s chest felt ten times lighter. He knew he was getting closer to finding his husband.

As Draco turned back to the monitor, staring into those beautiful green eyes, Seamus said, “We are going to start on the outside of the circle, work our way back towards the Manor. I will send the first address to your mobiles.” Hermione and Ron gathered the parchment as Theo and Blaise made their way back over to Draco. 

“We’ll go with you to Azkaban,” Theo stated. 

Blaise nodded in agreement. “Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Draco smirked at the two men beside him, grateful for their company. Taking one last look at the monitor, Draco said, “Harry, hold on. We’re coming for you.”

“Hurry.”

\- - -

The three men entered Azkaban. Without so much as a word, the guard waved them through the metal detector, not bothering to check their robes. As he hurried by, Draco gave the guard a pat on the arm, thanking him once again.

Draco continued down the hallway to the second guard’s station. He stopped just before the door, turning to Theo and Blaise. “Whatever happens in there,” Draco started, his voice slightly faltering, “you find him.”

“We’ve got your back,” Blaise confirmed.

“Yeah, Draco,” Theo agreed. “Just don’t kill him in front of the guards.”

Blaise smiled. “Yeah, leave that to me.”

Draco laughed. “Thanks, mate, but we need him alive. If Kingsley can get him released, we need him to lead us to Harry.”

“Then we can kill him.” Theo smiled wickedly.

“I doubt Harry would want the two people who helped save him behind bars,” Draco mused. “Though I am sure he won’t mind if Macnair is missing a limb or two.” With one last look at his comrades, Draco pushed open the interrogation room door. 

“Hello, Draco,” Macnair said with a smile.

“Seems like an awful lot of people for one room,” Draco said, looking around. At least ten people stood between him and the Death Eater. “Are you scared to be alone with me?

Macnair chuckled. “Can you blame me? We have a history, you and I.”

“You really think you’re getting out of here?”

“From what I gather,” Macnair began, his words laced with boredom, “somebody has taken your husband and is asking for my release in exchange, yes?” He looked nonchalantly at his fingernails, eyeing Draco from under his lashes.

“You think this is a game?” Draco spat.

“If I am released, I will surely accept it,” the Death Eater said with a grin, “but I don’t know who is behind this.”

Draco scoffed. He had feared coming back to Azkaban would just be a waste of time. “Listen to me--”

“I am listening,” the man interrupted. “You sound scared. I know I have nothing to fear from you.” Macnair laughed, taking a step back to lean casually against the wall.

“This face is the last thing you’re going to see before you die.”

“You really think you know what is going to happen in the future?” Macnair questioned. “How foolish of you. Just like your father.” 

“No,” Draco said with vehemence. “I will make it happen.”

“Oh,” the man chuckled. “I hope that moment comes. You will see, after I’m through with you. You’re going to be begging to die.”

“That’s some pretty big talk for someone so heavily guarded,” Theo said, smirking at Draco. Macnair ignored him.

“Let’s go,” said Blaise, tapping Draco’s arm. “He isn’t going to give us anything useful." 

Draco took one last look at the man and walked to the door. Just as he was about to turn the handle, Macnair said, “Tick-tock, Draco.” The blond turned around in time to see the Death Eater grabbing his throat, pretending to suffocate.

“I will kill you!” Draco screamed as Theo and Blaise shoved him out of the door, Macnair cackling hysterically as it shut.

Draco kicked the wall. “He fucking knows something! Fuck! This is not happening!” Draco spun around, nearly knocking into Theo as he did.

“Mate, I know you’ve done the math already,” Blaise said cautiously, not wanting to upset him further. “How much time are we talking?” 

Draco took a deep breath, his whole body shaking. “Based on the size of the room and the amount of oxygen consumed by an average-sized person, I’d say he’s got about six hours of fresh air left. Eight until he’s endangered of being poisoned by his own carbon dioxide, and ten until--” Draco couldn’t finish his sentence.

Theo looked down at his watch, “We’ve used up about two so far.”

Blaise and Draco exchanged pained looks. “Sounds about right, maybe even more,” Draco said, his voice sounding defeated. “The caller said the room was airtight. Meaning there is no chance of fresh air seeping in.”

“So the more Harry panics, the more oxygen he loses,” Blaise said knowingly.

Draco shook his head, adding, “And the less time he has.”

“I know Kingsley said it wasn’t possible for us to speak with Avery and Mulciber again,” Theo said, attempting to distract Draco from his thoughts, “but we are already here. Why don’t we try to question them anyway?”

“Great idea,” Blaise agreed. “We could tell the bastards Macnair gave them up to the Dementors.” 

“I’d pay to see that kiss,” Draco smirked. 

“Leaving so soon,” the guard asked as the three men made their way back to the first station.

“No,” Blaise said. “We’d actually like to speak with Avery and Mulciber. It’s already been approved.” He shot Draco a hopeful look.

“No problem,” the man said. “I will just need to double check.” Draco’s face fell. While the guard couldn’t immediately see through their lie, it would only be a matter of time before he turned them away. Even though he knew the outcome, Draco waited patiently as the guard checked the logbook.

“You wanted to speak to Avery and Mulciber?” the guard asked, sounding confused.

“Yes.” 

“Well, I’m sorry,” he said, frowning. Draco sighed. He’d known he wouldn’t get that lucky, but the guard continued. “Looks like they were removed from Azkaban forty-five minutes ago.”

“Removed? By who?” Blaise asked, bewildered.

“Well, that’s odd,” the guard said, squinting at the book. “Says here they were transferred into the custody of Draco Lucius Malfoy.” 

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, thoroughly confused. “You realize that’s _me_ , right?” 

“I know, sir, but see for yourself.” The man held the book out for Draco.

Slowly, Draco took the book and smoothed the pages. He scanned the log, his eyes widening when he found his own.

“I only know one man in the world with that elegant of a script,” Draco said, his eyes fixed on the paper. “And he’s the same one with enough guts to use my name.”

“Draco,” Theo said, taking a deep breath, “you haven’t spoken to him in years.”

“I’d do anything to get--” Draco started, but the ringing in his pocket interrupted him. 

Taking out his mobile, Draco looked at the caller I.D., a smirk playing on his lips as he answered. “Speak of the devil.”


	4. More Time With You

“I’m going to text you an address,” Lucius Malfoy said shortly. “Come alone, Draco.” Before the blond could retort, his father disconnected the call.

“Is anyone going to address the elephant in the room?” Blaise wondered aloud. Though Draco didn’t answer, his face said everything.

“It could be a trap,” Theo said cautiously, stating the obvious. His eyes met Blaise’s as he spoke. “He was a Death Eater, and we know Avery, Mulciber, and Macnair had outside help.” Blaise nodded in agreement. Both men turned to Draco, not exactly sure what to say.

“Do you think he has some--” Blaise began slowly, but Draco cut him off.

“The thought more than crossed my mind,” Draco sneered. “It really doesn’t matter now, though, does it? I’m going.”

“Alone?” Theo gasped. “That’s a terrible idea. You should definitely take someone to back you up.”

“Not alone. I thought I’d solicit Celestina Warbeck’s help. If things go south, she can serenade him to death,” Draco said sarcastically.

Blaise snorted, unmistakably amused. However, Theo sneered. “I’m serious, Draco.”

“You really think I’m that daft?” Draco scoffed. “When I regained control of the Manor, I changed the wards. Only our close friends and family can access without permission. I don’t think I need to tell you what I am getting at here.”

Though his throat felt incredibly dry, somehow Theo still managed to say, “He let them in.” Before he could answer, Draco’s phone buzzed, alerting him to a text.

“We are about to find out,” Draco said, showing the other two his phone. “I know this place; grab my arm.” Theo and Blaise took Draco’s outstretched arm. The blond gave them a quick nod in warning before Disapparating.

When they arrived, Draco immediately cast a _Disillusionment Charm_ on the pair. Putting a finger to his lips, Draco murmured, “Stay close, and say nothing.”

Draco walked down the familiar cobblestone path of Knockturn Alley. He shuddered. Most of the shops were abandoned, giving the entire street a deserted, eerie feel. As he rounded the corner, Draco recognized the silhouette of a man holding his cane, a man he had come to hate over the years.

Keeping a safe distance, Draco drew his wand, pointing the length at the man’s back. “So, you decided to slither out from under your rock, huh?”

Lucius turned around slowly, facing his son. “Manners, Draco. Is that any way to greet your father?”

“Oh, fuck,” Draco said, giving an extravagant bow. “Father, how wonderful to see you again.”

“Eloquent,” the man scoffed, giving Draco a stern look. “You didn’t come alone.” The man’s words were not a question. In fact, his tone was absolute.

Draco chuckled. “Did you really expect me to?”

“No,” Lucius sighed. “I guess you’re more like your father than I expected. Let’s hope, for your sake, Mr. Nott and Mr. Zabini don’t do anything rash.” The man sneered at Draco’s sides, knowingly. Though he kept his composure, an unwitting chill coursed through the younger blond’s body.

“How many?” Draco inquired, his eyes flashing as he scanned the street. “As you said, I’m like you.”

“My guess is two, for now,” the elder Malfoy said offhandedly, turning towards Borgin and Burkes. He gestured for Draco to follow him, but, Draco stood his ground.

“You guess?” Draco asked, his eyes narrowing. He did not trust the man’s words. “You mean you don’t--”

“Come,” Lucius interrupted, frustration flitting across the man’s face. “We can speak more freely in here.” Without another word, the old man walked into the shop.

For a moment, Draco hesitated. He did not like the idea of leaving the street. Somehow, outside felt safer than being behind a closed door. Draco sighed, dropping to one knee. He pretended to tie his shoe, hoping Theo and Blaise would understand his stall. A second later, he felt two pats on his shoulders.

“Blaise, take a look around,” Draco whispered. “Observe, don’t approach. Theo, you stay with me.” Two additional taps communicated their understanding.

Draco took a deep breath, standing to face the storefront. Adjusting his robes, he stepped inside, Theo trailing closely behind him.

\- - -

Though Draco had been in Borgin and Burkes numerous times as a child, the shop was unrecognizable. Layers of dust and filth coated the splintered countertops and floor. Lucius waited at the back of the shop, holding the rotting curtain back with his cane for his son.

“After you,” the man said, gesturing through the small opening.

Draco paused, giving his father a suspicious look. “What’s behind the curtain?”

Lucius frowned, “Suit yourself.” He stepped under the curtain, letting it fall onto Draco’s face. Coughing, Draco took his wand from his pocket, casting a nonverbal _Scourgify_ to clean the cobwebs from his robes.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” Draco mumbled, pulling back the curtain wide enough for both himself and Theo to enter.

“Say hello to your friends, Draco,” Lucius sneered, pointing to Avery and Mulciber. The two Death Eaters were bounded to chairs in the middle of the room. “I took a huge risk pulling them out of prison.”

“You used _my_ name,” Draco stated, his voice harsh.

“Like I said,” Lucius shrugged, “a huge risk.”

“My heart is breaking for you,” Draco spat. He pushed past his father. “I need to question them.”

“Look,” Lucius started. “I know there’s a clock, but this has to be clear.” Lucius stopped, ensuring he had Draco’s full attention.

“Go on,” Draco said, impatiently.

“I’m giving you this gift so that you and the other musketeers might finally understand that I had nothing to do with coming after your team,” Lucius murmured.

“Wow,” Draco said, astonished. “Was that a Muggle reference, father? I didn’t know you had it in you. And you didn’t come after my team. No. You came after my husband!” Draco was screaming, not caring whom his father had lurking in the shadows watching them.

Lucius shuttered. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Draco scoffed. “I understand, _Lucius_. May I question them now?”

The older man looked down at his son, the sadness in his eyes quickly replaced with anger. For a brief moment, Draco thought his father would strike him. He took a step back.

Lucius noticed the change in Draco’s demeanor and sighed. “Questions are for Metro Police Officers and Aurors. What you need are answers.” He strode up to the men, unsheathing his wand from his cane.

Draco eyed his father apprehensively. “What do you suggest?”

“It seems Avery here tried to escape. He jumped out of your Muggle car and made a run for it.” Lucius pointed his wand at the man, “ _Crucio_.” Draco watched as the Death Eater writhed in pain. After what seemed like a full minute, Lucius lifted the spell, leaving Avery panting and spitting blood.

“I did over twenty years in Azkaban,” Avery said, gasping for air. “Your curse is like a summer holiday. I’m not talking--” His words were cut off by his own screams as Lucius severed a finger with a nonverbal _Diffindo_.

“Feel like a holiday now?” Lucius asked, a smile spreading across his face. “You tell my son everything he needs to know. Fool around, and you will surely die, my old friend.”

“I would try really hard to stay conscious, if I were you,” Draco added. “You know the information I am after.”

“Macnair,” Avery wheezed. “Walden Macnair offered us the job when we told him we had history with you too.”

“Who paid you?” Draco asked.

“A substantial sum was transferred into my account at Gringotts,” Avery said, eyeing Lucius’ wand. “That’s all I know.”

Draco searched his robes for his phone. Quickly, he dialed a number and waited.

“Hey, Draco,” Dean said.

“Dean, listen,” Draco said, almost shouting through the phone. He turned his attention back on Avery. “Speak! I need the vault number. Speak!”

“Gringotts vault number 742,” Avery whispered, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Dean, did you get that?” Draco asked, shaking the man from his unconsciousness.

“Got it.”

“There should be a large deposit,” Draco continued. “Trace it. Whoever put that money in the account, that’s who has kidnapped Harry.”

“Oh my... Draco, 175,000 Galleons were transferred into Avery’s account four days ago,” Dean started. “The money moved through several banks, but originated in a corporate account in Great Britain.”

“Macnair is from Great Britain,” Lucius offered.

“Okay, find out who controls that account, Dean,” Draco said, his heart racing. “Have Seamus help you. We need a name. There’s got to be a connection. We will see you back at the command center in a minute.”

“We’re on it,” Dean exclaimed, disconnecting the call.

Draco put his phone back in his pocket, making his way back to the storefront.

“Manners, Draco,” Lucius said, eyeing his son. “What are you planning to do with our guests?”

“Well, father, you taught me to put my toys away when I was done playing with them,” Draco said, flatly. “You know where they go.”

“Aren’t you curious for more?”

“They are of no use to me, and quite frankly, neither are you.”

\- - -

Draco arrived back at the command center with a _crack_. Without a word to Dean, he wandered miserably over to the table, taking a seat. Draco put his head down, feeling the throbbing of his eyes and hearing the ring of Harry’s screams vibrating in his ears; it was mentally exhausting.

“Where are the others?” Dean asked, looking up from his computer screen.

“Theo’s getting Blaise now,” Draco said, adding, “Any luck tracing the money?”

“Not yet,” Dean said. “Seamus is at Gringotts now, bargaining with the goblins.”

“How is he?”

Dean sighed. “Not great, but he is hanging in there. He’s been asking for you.”

Draco’s fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into the palms of his hands. “How can I look him in the eyes and tell him we’ve got nothing?”

Dean stood, walking over to Draco. “We’ve got the men responsible, we’ve got the account, and we’ve got Aurors searching. We will find him, Draco. Just keep him calm.”

“Calm,” Draco repeated, his gaze shifting to the monitor on the other side of the room. Calm was the furthest thing from his mind. He stared at Harry, tied to a chair, in a room, alone. He knew his husband was a brave man, but even Harry Potter had a breaking point. Draco’s thoughts were interrupted by two loud cracks.

“Draco?” Harry asked. “Is that you?”

“Yes, love,” Draco said, nodding to Theo and Blaise as he moved to the screen. “I’m back.”

“Listen, I know you’ve calculated this all out. You want to tell me what number you came up with?” Harry coughed, his voice trailing off.

“You’ve got twelve to fourteen hours of oxygen left,” Draco lied. “Maybe a little more.”

“That’s funny,” Harry said. “I came up with something much less. I started out with about eight hours, and now I estimate I’m down to four. You want to go over your numbers with me?”

Draco cringed. “We are going to find you long before that matters. You should try to sleep. You will use less oxygen that way.”

“Speaking is not my problem at the moment,” Harry said trying to keep his voice steady. “You’ve got no leads, love. You’re not going to find me in time.” Harry looked away from the camera in the room, tears streaming down his face.

“I am not giving up on you!” Draco screamed, his voice cracking. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t lie to his husband and tell him everything was going to be okay, couldn’t watch the man he loved slowly suffocate to death in front of him. Harry was the one running out of oxygen, but Draco couldn’t breathe. “I need to talk to Kingsley,” he said suddenly and Disapparated on the spot.

“Theo?” Harry asked. “Are you there?”

“I’m here, Harry,” Theo said, walking closer to the monitor. “He’s right, we will find you.”

“Take care of him, Theo.”

“I always do.”

\- - -

Draco entered the Minister’s office abruptly, slamming the door behind him. Turning expectantly, Draco was taken aback by the empty room.

“Fuck.” Draco made his way around the desk, glancing at the calendar lying on the corner. Nothing written on the schedule would be demanding the Minister’s attention, and yet, there was no sign of the man.

Frustrated, Draco slammed his fists on the table just missing the sound of the door opening and closing in front of him. “Where the fu--”

“I don’t suggest finishing that question, Mr. Malfoy,” Kingsley said coolly.

“Oh,” Draco started, hurrying from behind the desk. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I gathered as much.”

“Look, I know I am not your favorite person in the world,” Draco said, his voice faltering.

“There is no need to explain or apologize, Draco.” Kingsley smiled. “I understand.”

“Right, thanks.”

“Now, I am sure you are here for information regarding the release of Walden Macnair,” the man said, gesturing for Draco to take a seat. Opening his cabinet, Kingsley pulled two glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey from the shelf. He poured a sizable amount in each before handing a glass to Draco.

The blond nodded appreciatively, taking a sip. “I know the Ministry has a policy of not negotiating with the residents of Azkaban, and certainly not with Death Eaters, but we’re not going to find Harry in time.”

“You know I cannot authorize a release of this magnitude.”

“We need to start talking to the Wizengamot,” Draco snapped.

“Draco,” Kingsley started, setting his glass down on the table, “I have been working to get Macnair released since this began. I have been down on Level Ten all evening.”

“What are they saying?”

“To be honest, I don’t give a damn what they’re saying because I am not taking no for an answer.” Kingsley rose up from his chair, making his way to the door. “Harry has accomplished so much for the wizarding world. It’s time we return the favor. Let me keep working.”

Draco stood, giving the man a curt nod. Kingsley opened the door, stopping just before he exited. “The best thing you can do is go talk to him. Keep him calm. Don’t let Harry lose hope. Don’t you lose hope.”

Draco sighed as the man closed the door behind him. He knew the Minister was right. Taking one last large gulp of firewhiskey, he set the glass on the table and searched his pockets for his phone. Draco dialed the familiar number.

“Is he being released?” Dean asked, answering the phone.

“The Minister is working on it, but I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Redirect Harry’s feed from the monitors to a handheld device,” Draco said. “Shut it down from the command center, and from the other teams. I am on my way back.”

\- - -

 “Harry.” Draco cleared his throat, taking the tablet from Dean as he entered the room. He sat down at the table, casting a _Muffliato_ around himself. “I cut the feed from everyone else. It’s just us now.”

“It’s getting hotter in here,” Harry sighed, breathing heavily.

“You’ll be okay,” Draco said. “There is still plenty of oxygen in that room.”

“I’m trying to remember,” Harry started. “Something when we were driving, but I can’t figure it out.” He shut his eyes, willing his brain to function.

“Don’t worry, love. Just stay calm.”

“I’m scared,” Harry whispered, his voice drained of hope.

“Harry, listen to me,” Draco pleaded, his voice shaking. “Do you remember the night after the fight in Godric’s Hollow?” Tears streamed down his face as he watched a smile light his husband’s eyes.

“Always,” Harry chuckled. “We were at the Ministry, both running on empty. You had just finished telling me how you had been up all night, watching Scorpius sleep. I had done the same with Albus.”

“We sat in the office all day, drinking firewhiskey from my private stash,” Draco said, remembering. “That was the day told me you were leaving Ginny.”

“It was a long time coming,” Harry started, “but after all we had been through, I couldn’t face her anymore. You understood my pain.”

“Something just--”

“Clicked,” Harry offered.

“We ended up talking for hours,” Draco laughed. “I had never felt more free, more alive. I never wanted that feeling to end.”

“Did you know that was the night that I knew that I would be with you forever?” Harry asked, closing his eyes and hanging his head as he began to cry.

“We still have plenty of time; don’t give up.” Draco gripped the tablet tighter.

“I want more time with you,” Harry sobbed hysterically, looking back up at the camera. “I want more time with you _and_ my children.” Draco leaned back in the chair, silent sobs racking his body. He couldn’t let Harry hear him breaking down. He had to be strong for the man.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco caught a glimpse of movement. Composing himself, Draco took down the _Muffliato_ as Dean sprinted to the table, Theo and Blaise following closely behind.

“What is it?” Draco asked. Though his mouth moved, Dean’s words were drowned by Harry’s cries. He froze.

“What is it?” Draco repeated as Theo and Blaise took a seat beside him.        

Dean paused, tears brimming his eyes as his gaze dropped to the screen. “The Wizengamot has just authorized Macnair’s release.”

“That’s good news,” Draco said. He could feel his heart start beating faster. Before the man could speak again, Dean raised his hand to silence him.

“Under certain stipulations,” Dean added.

“Like?” Draco growled. He looked back at the screen. Harry was sniffling silently, hanging on to Dean’s every word.

“We are not allowed to let him out of sight,” Dean said, his voice thick with worry. “An around the clock security team is being put together as we speak, and he will not be given back his wand.”

Draco scoffed. “What security team? Why not us?”

“Macnair will recognize you in a heartbeat, Draco...” Dean’s voice trailed off. He looked away, not wanting to make eye contact with the man.

“This is the Ministry’s way of telling me to stay out of it, isn’t it?”

“They are probably worried you’ll kill him,” Blaise said, smirking at Draco.

“It’s more than that,” Dean said.

“They don’t want to set a precedent. They want to be able to say that the Death Eater was not actually released,” Theo said, shaking his head.

“Macnair will be abiding by the anti-magic clause of his parole that prevents all forms of apparition, including side-along,” Dean said, his voice failing at an attempt of reassurance.

“I’m shocked,” Blaise said sarcastically. “Though, that should make him easier to track.”

“Politics,” Draco huffed, his eyes shifting to the door at the sound of a crack.

“The money trail’s gone dry; both Gringotts and Great Britain are not cooperating,” Seamus said, walking into the room.

Draco’s face fell. “That’s the only real lead we have.”

Seamus turned anxiously to Dean. “There were no other hits on the black van?”

“No.”

“Listen. I want you two in charge of surveillance,” Draco snapped. “Dean, get in touch with Metro police. They _will_ put a helicopter in the sky for us, and I want one of us on it. Seamus, I want you here with every monitor following his movements.”

“You do realize that if Macnair doesn’t feel completely safe,” Theo started, his voice barely a whisper, “he’s never going to reveal Harry’s location.”

“I understand the dilemma,” Draco hissed as three loud cracks sounded through the room.

“A representative from the Wizengamot is on the way to Azkaban right now to release Walden Macnair,” Kingsley said, pulling out the chair in front of him, and taking a seat.

“Thank you,” Draco said sincerely.

“Dean,” Hermione started, “head to the Metro Station now. They are waiting for you.” The man gave her a quick nod, Disapparating immediately.

“Seamus, do you need help setting up?” Ron asked, walking over to the monitors.

“Yeah,” Seamus said, joining the man. “Let’s get everything going.”

Kingsley turned his attention to Theo and Blaise. “I need you both down at Metro as well. Mr. Nott, you will run point from their office; Mr. Zabini, you will assist.”

“I think I should be here, with Draco.” Theo gave a sideways glance at his partner.

“I appreciate your loyalty,” Kingsley started, “but Hermione and I will stay here with him.”

The pair stood from the table, giving small smiles to Draco as they Disapparated.

“I know you wanted to follow Macnair personally, but this is the only way we could manage it without being recognized,” Hermione said, taking Draco’s hand in hers.

“I understand.” Draco looked down at the tablet resting on the table.

“Hey, did you hear that?” he asked. “Open your eyes, Harry. We’re almost there; keep fighting.”

“Draco?” Harry asked weakly. “Cast a privacy charm around us, please.” Draco complied.

“What is it, love?”

Harry took a moment to gather his thoughts. There were so many things he wanted to tell his husband, so much more he wanted to show him. Harry sighed. He felt cheated. He finally had what he wanted most in the world, and it was being ripped from him.

“Just in case…” Harry’s voice trailed off.

“No. Don’t you start that,” Draco choked, his hands shaking as he grabbed the tablet from the table. Holding the device close to his face, he whispered, “I am so close to getting you back, love.”

“You tell the children I love them with every fiber of my being,” Harry said, his voice strained. “You tell them for me.”

“You’re going to tell them yourself, love,” Draco said, tears running down his cheeks.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”


	5. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all comes down to this...
> 
> SO much LOVE for AshesOfLauren who stuck out my craziness! <3 You are the greatest!!
> 
> And, it wouldn't be me if I didn't add a song... So listen, if you are so inclined, to Brett Young's "In Case You Didn't Know." It's the inspiration/purpose behind Draco's words to Harry.

Draco paced back and forth next to the table. Ten full minutes passed without any word from any member of his team. He glanced over at the monitors where Seamus and Ron sat staring fixedly at the screen.

“Anything? Draco asked hopefully.

“Not since you asked two minutes ago,” Seamus said. “I’ve got Dean on speaker with Theo and Blaise. They will update us the moment he is released.”

“Draco, come sit down,” Hermione said gently. “Don’t get yourself too--” Her words were cut off by the sound of Dean’s voice.

“The paperwork just went through. We have less than five minutes until Macnair walks out of Azkaban a free man. Theo is headed up with Metro Police in their helicopter to get in position. Hermione, he is going to call you to keep in touch. Be ready.”

Draco’s stomach churned at Dean’s words. Macnair would be free, and Harry would not. Anger surged through his body. Hands shaking, he placed the tablet back on the table. Steadying his voice as best he could, he said, “It’s just a matter of time, love. Macnair has been released. I will see you soon.” Harry nodded weakly as Draco walked over to the monitors, sliding a chair with him. 

“ _Silencio_ ,” Hermione whispered, pointing her wand at the table as she moved to the monitors.

“Why did you do that?” Draco asked, confused.

“We need to keep him calm,” Hermione said. “I don’t want him hearing this if…” Her voice died. Draco smiled dolefully, squeezing her hand. 

“Thank you.” 

“Alright,” Dean started, “I found a way to patch you through to the special operations team’s communication.” 

“How did you manage that?” Hermione asked.

“Arnie gave each Auror an earpiece so they could communicate inconspicuously,” the man said, a hint of pride in his voice. “I may have modified them before they put them in.”

“I don’t have an ear piece,” Draco said as he glanced at Seamus.

“You just need your phone. You will be able to hear them,” Seamus added, seeing the confused expression on Draco’s face, “but they will not be able to hear you.”

Draco nodded, taking his mobile from his robes. “What do I need to do?”  
  
“Dial 4-2-7-7-9 on your phone.”

“I can hear them,” Draco said as Hermione’s phone began to ring. She answered, immediately pressing the speaker button.

“Alright,” she said. “We are all connected.” 

“Draco,” Theo said, speaking loudly over the whirring of the helicopter, “you should be able to see what is happening in front of you.” Draco looked up at the monitors, watching the scene unfold.

\- - -

_Crickerly: I have a visual on Macnair. He’s walking briskly down the street. He is already two blocks from where the guards dropped him off._

_Proudfoot: There is a car approaching._

Draco heard a car come screeching to a halt. After a few seconds, the car’s engine revved, and tires squealed as it drove off again.

_Savage: Macnair is in a red Ford Fiesta. I cannot see who the driver is._

_Crickerly: I see him. The driver is a tall male. The windows are tinted. I can’t make out who it is either._

_Williamson: Nice clean handoffs, guys. Keep talking to each other._

_Proudfoot: The car just rounded the corner. I have a visual._

“Don’t be afraid to lose visuals. I’ve got him from up here,” Theo said, his voice commanding. “Remember, we need the bastard to feel safe.”

_Savage: He’s heading south. I’ve got him, Proudfoot. You can peel off._

_Proudfoot: Handing off, He’s yours._

“It looks like he’s headed west,” Theo said as Draco watched the car on the monitor turn. “You’re too close Williamson, stay back.”

Draco grabbed his hair, pulling slightly in frustration. “This isn’t going to work if he sees one of them.”

“Don’t worry, Draco,” Ron said. “These guys are professionals.”

Draco scoffed, turning his attention back to the monitor in front of him. “We should be out there following him.”

_Crickerly: I’m coming up behind you. I’ll take him from here._

_Williamson: He’s yours._

_Savage: The car is headed towards a parking structure. Do you want me to--_

“Whoa,” Theo cried, “watch out for the blue minivan.” Draco heard tires screech as he watched the van cut off the detail from Macnair.

_Crickerly: That’s got to be intentional; he’s making his move. Can you go around?_

_Savage: No, I’m blocked. The Fiesta is driving inside. I’ve lost visual. Should I pursue on foot?_

“Yes. Make sure you stay out of sight,” Theo said, his voice rising slightly. “He needs to believe he’s not being followed.” 

_Williamson: Who’s close to the exit on the south side of the structure?_

_Proudfoot: I’m two blocks away, closing in. If he leaves, I’ll pick him up._

_Savage: The Fiesta is exiting the structure on the west side._

_Crickerly: I’m almost there. I see him._

_Williamson: Wait. There are two red Fiestas._

_Crickerly: Two? I’m trying to get there._

“Shit,” Theo said. “We have a third.”

Draco’s heart stopped. “What’s going on, Theo?” No response.

_Crickerly: Ten seconds until I get to the exit. Theo, look. There’s a fourth. Which one should I pick up?_

_Williamson: There is a fifth. Which one should I follow, Theo? Talk to me._

“He could be in any one of them,” Theo said, his voice wavering. “He could also be back in the structure.”

“Theo!” Draco screamed. “What’s happening?” 

_Savage: I’m inside the parking structure. I don’t see him._

_Crickerly: What’s the call, Theo?_

“Let him go,” Kingsley said, taking Hermione’s phone as he stepped up to the monitors. “Pull all the tails. Dean, patch Hermione’s number through so I can speak directly to the Aurors.”

“This is team leader Williamson. Whom am I speaking with?” Auror Williamson asked. “How did you get into our communications?

“This is the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt,” the man said. “Break off the surveillance, now.”

“We’re actually letting him go?”

Annoyance laced Kingsley’s words as he said, “Stop following those cars, drive away now.”

“Who’s authorizing this? I need a name.”

“Authorization has been given by the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. This is Muggle Intelligence Analyst Seamus Finnigan speaking,” Seamus said, his voice firm.

“Copy that,” Auror Williamson said. “Breaking off. Let’s go back to Metro.”

“There was no authorization, was there?” Draco asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he watched the Aurors driving away.

“You didn’t have to do that, Mr. Finnigan,” Kingsley said, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Destroying one career would have sufficed.” 

Seamus turned, looking at Draco. He smiled. “Whatever it takes. I’m good with my decision.”

\- - -

“Eight hours,” Draco whispered, glancing at his watch.

“What was that?” Hermione asked.

“We just passed hour eight, there’s still no word from Macnair.” Draco sighed. He walked back over to the table and sat down just as Theo, Dean, and Blaise made their way back into the command center.

“I’m so sorry,” Theo said, taking a seat next to Draco. “We – We did everything we could, I promise.”

“I know,” Draco said. He pulled the tablet protectively to his chest, pushing the mute button on the side of the device. He did not want his husband to hear about their failure.

“How is he?” Blaise asked.

“Not great. Well, he’s still breathing.” Draco closed his eyes. Blood rushed to his head as his thoughts drifted to Albus, James, and Lily. To Scorpius.

“Fuck!” Draco could see his husband grudgingly taking Lily to Twilfitt and Tatting's to look at dresses at Narcissa’s suggestion, buying supplies at Quality Quidditch for James and Albus, playing chess with Scorpius outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor; all things Harry loved to do with his children. Draco clutched his chest, feeling his heart split in two.

“What is it?” Theo asked.

“They’re just kids. They worshiped their father,” Draco said.

“ _Worship_ , Draco,” Theo reminded him. “Present tense. There is still hope.” Draco nodded.

“I’m sorry; you’re right,” Draco said, looking back at the tablet. “Would you guys mind giving me some privacy?”

“Sure thing.” The two made their way over to the others as Draco unmuted the tablet.

“Harry?” Draco asked.

“Draco, I figured it out.” Harry’s voice was faint.

“What is it?”

“The van was moving,” Harry started, his voice strained. He took a deep breath before continuing. “The engine was running, but there were no other sounds. No cars. Nothing.”

“That’s great, love,” he said, but his excitement turned to dismay as realization dawned. “I’m sure they just used a charm so you wouldn’t be able to hear them." 

“No,” Harry coughed. “I was listening carefully. They never said a spell.”

“Theo,” Draco yelled across the room, getting the man’s attention. “Harry says he didn’t hear the sound of any other cars.”

“They probably used _Muffliato_ \--”

“No charms. No spells,” Draco interrupted. “What if the kidnappers were rocking the van to make him feel like he was moving, but it was actually just sitting in a garage?”

“They wanted us to think they were driving for 90 minutes,” Theo said, his eyes narrowing in thought.

“That would explain why the van didn’t show up on any of the motorway cameras,” Dean added, sliding his chair in front of his computer. He began typing feverishly at the keys.

“That’s why they let us communicate with Harry,” Hermione said. “They needed him to tell us how long they were driving.”

“That means,” Draco started, his voice rising in excitement, “that van never left my neighborhood.”  
  
Seamus picked up his phone, dialing Metro Police. “Pull every agent back to within a one-mile radius of Draco Malfoy’s house.”

“Gather around,” Draco said, new life shining in his eyes. “I’ve got a plan.” 

\- - -

“Dean, what are we doing here?” Ron asked. “Did Draco purposely send us back to the same warehouse that had the security cameras this morning?”

“No. I did.”

“This is a waste of time,” Ron snapped. “We need to find Harry. Now.”

“I know.” Dean recoiled at the man’s words. “But I checked the city records. This place used to be a restaurant distribution center.”

“Which means they would have bulk refrigerators to sell,” Hermione interjected excitedly. 

“We’ll take it,” Ron said, running up to the door. He knocked three times. No answer. He tried again. Nothing.

“Do you think they’ve gone for the night?” Hermione asked, looking around the street for signs of life.

“Fuck this!” Ron began kicking and pounding the door in rage.

“Stop,” Hermione said impatiently. “Are you a wizard or not?” Taking one more glance around the road, she removed her wand from her cloak, pointing it at the lock. She gave Ron a sheepish grin just as the door swung open.

“Hi,” Ron said, distracting the guard as Hermione stored her wand. “Remember us? 

“Uh, yeah. How are you doing?”

“Have you got a refrigerator in this building?” Hermione asked, eyeing the gentleman carefully.

“Yeah.”

“We need to see it.” Hermione did not wait for his response. She pushed by the man, redrawing her wand as soon as she was out of his sight.

“Hey! Wait.” The guard shouted after her, but she was gone. He turned expectantly to Ron.

“Excuse us,” Ron offered, cutting in front of the man as he entered the building. Ron passed a long, dark hallway as he made his way to Hermione near the back of the building.

“Hey, did you see…” his voice trailed off. He could see his wife had stopped in front of a padlocked refrigerator unit. 

“This is it,” Hermione whispered, gripping her wand tighter by her side.

“Open it,” Ron demanded as the guard caught up with them, his keys jingling at his hip. The man sighed, fumbling with his belt. He removed the key ring and began searching for the proper one. After a few moments, the guard inserted a key, twisting the lock open.

“Thanks,” Hermione muttered, eyeing the handle.

“Didn’t have a choice,” the guard said matter-of-factly, stepping back from the door.

“Ready?” Ron asked, his heart racing.

“On three. One. Two. Three!” Hermione turned the handle, pulling the door wide open. She gasped, turning away from the inside. Grabbing hold of Ron’s sweater, Hermione let out a strangled sob. He pulled her in close, fighting back his own tears. Although Ron had faced his fears in his second year at Hogwarts, he knew what was waiting inside for him would be far worse than any spider. But, he had to see for himself. Holding his breath, Ron stepped into the unit, his jaw dropping at the scene before him.

“Empty,” he whispered. The couple stood holding each other, staring into the refrigerator for a few moments before a voice dragged them from their thoughts. 

“Satisfied?” the guard asked, slipping his hand out from his sleeve.

“Yes,” Hermione said, wiping her eyes. “Thank you. We will be going now.” Ron and Hermione made their way to the front, the man following closely behind them. 

\- - -

Hermione exited the warehouse in a stupefied daze. She’d thought for sure she would be the one to find Harry, alive. Now, she wasn’t sure they would find him at all. She folded her arms across her body, giving herself a tight squeeze. Closing her eyes, Hermione let her mind go blank.

“Are you alright?” Ron asked, stepping out of the warehouse, the door closing behind him. Before Hermione could say ‘No,’ her phone rang.

She looked at Ron anxiously as she rummaged through her pockets. 

“It’s Dean,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think they found him?

“Answer it.”

“Hello,” Hermione said, taking Ron’s hand as she placed the call on speakerphone.

“Hey, I’m going through the warehouse footage from this morning,” Dean started.

“I guess that means you haven’t found him,” Hermione said blankly. 

“Not yet,” Dean sighed. “Just listen. After the van went by the cameras this morning, there’s nothing there.”  
  
“Meaning what?” Ron asked.

“Meaning, I should see you two when you both went into the building.”

“So, the footage was prerecorded to make us think the van went by,” Hermione said, turning back to the building.

“You don’t think…” Ron’s voice trailed off.

“The van must be somewhere inside the building,” Dean said quickly. “Which means, so is Harry.” 

“The other dark hallway,” Ron gasped, removing his wand from his cloak. “Dean, we’re going back in, and we’re not waiting for backup.”

“Send a Mediwizard,” Hermione added quietly.

“On it,” Dean said. “Keep me on the line. I know you won’t be able to talk directly, but I will be able to hear you in case...” He couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Ron said. “You won’t lose us.” 

Hermione looked back at her husband as she drew her wand for the third time that night. “Are you ready?”

Ron squeezed her hand, “Whatever it takes.” He trained his wand on the center of the door as Hermione stepped to the side, grabbing the handle.

“Shield first,” Hermione said.

“I know,” Ron said, concentrating on his target. He nodded to Hermione, mouthing, ‘I’m ready.’ 

“Now.” Hermione pulled the door open.

“ _Protego Maxima,_ ” Ron bellowed, barely blocking a stinging jinx.

“They were waiting,” Hermione gasped, ducking back behind the door.

“What should we do?”

“Everything is rebounding chest high,” Hermione observed as a string of spells bounced off the protective bubble.

“Whatever you’re going to do, make it quick,” Ron said, his voice strained. “I’m not sure I can hold this much longer.” Ron stumbled backward as another string of spells came through the door, splintering his shield. Hermione glanced into her husband’s eyes. She could see the sweat running down his face as he gripped his wand for dear life. 

Crawling up to the entrance, Hermione shouted, “ _Bombarda Maxima!”_ The explosion shook the building. As dust and debris settled, she could see the guard lying on the floor just beyond the door, a wand inches away from his fingertips.

“He could have cursed us at any time,” Hermione said. Her eye’s widened in fear. “He could have killed us.”

Ron nodded in agreement. “We don’t know what else is in there,” he said, squinting into the darkness. “Come on. Let’s find Harry.” He took a step inside, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

“Wait!” she pointed her wand, whispering, “ _Homenum Revelio_.” Nothing happened. “Okay. Stay close.”

The couple moved quickly through the entrance, wands stretched out in front of them. After a few seconds, Ron gestured to the dimly lit hallway on his left. 

“This way,” he murmured. “Stay behind me.” He turned, making his way through the fallen ceiling tiles and scaffolding. He stopped before the path took him around a corner.

“ _Homenum Revelio_.” Hermione waited for the slighted sound of life, but nothing came. “ _Lumos_.” As light flooded the hallway, a door came into focus at the end of the path. Ron took one look at Hermione and sprinted the length of the hall.

“ _Alohomora_ ,” Ron said, pointing his wand at the lock. He pushed through the doorway, entering a large garage. As his eyes adjusted to the scene, Ron gasped.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, running to his side, but all Ron could do was point his finger. Just in front of him sat a black van and a refrigerator. Hermione rummaged through her pockets as she approached the unit, grateful to see her call hadn’t been disconnected.

“Dean, are you listening? We’ve got him, Dean! Send Draco!” She grasped the handle and pulled.

\- - -

Draco sat at the table staring unblinkingly at the man on the screen. He had finally convinced Harry to sleep in an effort to conserve energy. Even though he was tired himself, Draco couldn’t take his eyes off his husband. 

He reached across the table for a quill, ink, and piece of parchment Hermione had left behind. Dipping the quill, he traced the name _Draco Lucius Malfoy_. He paused. Drawing a hyphen, he added _–Potter_.

Harry had asked Draco numerous times to take his last name, but he just laughed at the man. He told his husband changing something as trivial as a name at their age was preposterous. They were both well-known wizards, with long established lines of wizard blood and legacies. Now, he wished he had said yes.

Draco couldn’t count the times he almost said what was on his mind, then didn’t. He wasn’t brought up to be emotional and sharing. He re-inked the quill and began writing as two loud cracks announced Theo and Blaise’s arrival.

The two men walked over to Dean and Seamus sitting at the desk in front of the monitors.

“We covered every square inch possible,” Theo said. “No sign of Harry.”

“Hermione and Ron just got to the warehouse from this morning,” Dean said. “I don’t know why, but something isn’t right about that place. Seamus and I are going through the video frame by frame as we speak.”

“How’s he doing?” Blaise asked, gesturing to Draco at the table. 

“He’s barely moved from Harry’s screen,” Seamus said, turning to face the blond. “I’m sure he is going out of his mind.” Theo and Blaise nodded in agreement, watching their best mate scribbling furiously on the parchment. 

“Guys, take a look at this,” Dean said, gesturing to the screen. “This is the footage of the van going by the camera from the warehouse. I am going to fast forward a few hours, keep your eyes on the screen.” Theo and Blaise watched carefully as Dean played the video loop a few times.

“I see what’s missing,” Seamus said excitedly. “Draco, you’ve got to see this.”

Draco looked up at the sound of his name. He saw Seamus waving for him to join them at the monitor. Finishing up his thoughts, Draco looked down at the parchment and smiled. 

_-In case you didn’t know, I am crazy about you._

_-I would be lying if I said that I could live my life without you._

_-I’m sure you figured it out, but you had my heart a long, long time ago._

_-You’ve got all of me. You’ve got everything._

_-I love you more._

_~ Draco Lucius Malfoy-Potter_

 He folded the parchment and put it in his pocket. Draco sighed, picking up the tablet and joining the group in front of the monitors. 

“What’s up?” Draco asked.

“What do you see?” Dean asked. “Or rather, don’t see?” 

“Just tell me what I am looking at, Dean,” Draco snapped impatiently. “This really isn’t the time for games.”

“I don’t see Ron and Hermione enter the building.” Draco’s eyes widened as comprehension spread across his face.

“Get them on the phone, now,” Draco gasped, his voice trembling. He looked down at the tablet. Harry was slumped in the chair, unmoving. Draco froze, his eyes scanning his husband’s body for moment. Nothing.

“Harry. Harry! Harry!” Draco screamed. He turned to Theo, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t know if he’s still breathing!”

Draco’s heart stopped, the room spinning slowly around him. His entire body went numb as he clutched onto the desk for support. He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts screaming in his mind. 

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath as Dean’s words came crashing over him. “Draco, they’ve got him. Go to him.” Draco’s head snapped in Theo’s direction, his eyes searching for the other man’s. He needed confirmation from his partner. Theo nodded to him.

“My car is at your Manor,” he said, grabbing Draco’s arm. “We can Apparate there and drive.”

Draco dropped the tablet onto the desk. He took one last look at Harry, saying, “I’ll be there in a minute,” as he Disapparated. 

\- - -

Theo stopped the car in front of the warehouse, cutting the engine. Sighing, he turned to face his partner. For a moment, Draco didn’t move. He stared out the front window, watching the red and blue lights reflect against the shiny plastic. Everyone was moving so fast, their mouths shouting words that Draco couldn’t hear. Slowly, he turned to Theo.

“Ready?” Theo asked. Draco nodded. Opening his door, he stepped out into the chaos. He was able to avoid the Muggle media wanting information about the explosion that killed a security guard as he maneuvered through the crowd, finally reaching the door.

Stepping into the warehouse, Draco was able to follow distant voices leading him back to the garage, Theo following closely behind him.

Draco could feel his heart speed up as he made his way to the second door. He paused as the voices came into focus on the other side.

Cautiously, Draco stepped through the door. He stopped as the entire room went silent. Slowly, Metro officers stepped aside hanging their heads, not making eye contact with the blond. As a path emerged, Draco scanned the room, finding Hermione and Ron. The man had his arms wrapped around his wife, holding her tight as her body shook uncontrollably.

“Ron…” Draco’s words trailed as the man shook his head.

Draco heard the words, ‘Give him some privacy, please,’ as he ran forward. His eyes found a white linen cloth covering something on the floor. He dropped to his knees in front of the mound, throwing back the cover.

“No…” Draco cried, his voice lost in his throat. He let out a sob, scooping Harry’s head in his hands, pulling the man’s lifeless body to his chest. He screamed, rocking his husband back and forth. To see Harry like this was to die himself. There was no life without him, without his love. Harry had been his _raison d’être_ , and existing when he no longer did fractured something in Draco’s mind. He kissed his husband’s lips one last time.

Wiping his eyes, Draco took the folded parchment from his pocket, placing it carefully in Harry’s hand. “I will find whoever did this,” Draco whispered the haunting promise into Harry’s ear. “I will find them, and I will kill them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Draco get his revenge?
> 
> ...Find out in "Unleashed"... coming soon! <3


End file.
